


5 Day Plan: Easy Steps To Dating Your Straight Best Friend

by chooken



Category: Westlife
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Bad Advice, Bathtubs, Bets & Wagers, Boys Kissing, Break Up, Bubble Bath, Common Cold, Conversations, Coughing, Cuddling & Snuggling, Developing Relationship, Dirty Talk, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluid Sexuality, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Frottage, Grinding, Horoscopes, Hotels, Humor, Intercrural Sex, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Morning Cuddles, Nudity, Past Relationship(s), Porn Watching, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Reading, Reading Aloud, Rebound, Relationship Advice, Relationship Negotiation, Relationship(s), Reminiscing, Romantic Friendship, Room Service, Roommates, Sex Is Fun, Sexual Tension, Sexuality, Showers, Sleeping Together, Sleepy Cuddles, Sneezing, Snogging, Spooning, Talking, Undecided Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2018-04-01 08:25:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4012621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chooken/pseuds/chooken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mark and Nicky get sick and are locked in a hotel room together so they don't infect the other lads.  Five days of cuddling, confessions, and terrible Cosmo articles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day One

“I'm so fucking bored.”

“Tell me about it.” Mark sighed, laying back on the bed. He'd been sitting up before. Now he was laying down. It was a rollercoaster of a day, obviously. Edge of his seat stuff. Had been, pretty much since Nicky had start coughing at breakfast, the little tickle he'd been complaining of for the last day apparently turned into something that sounded like he was trying to retch up a blender. The others had looked concerned, but backed away slightly, looking at their food like they were afraid it might have turned into some sort of biological warfare. Anto had looked over too, pausing in his phone conversation for a second to study the blonde, who was looking a little tired and sweaty, come to think of it.

So Nicky had been sent to his room, told to stay there and that there was a doctor coming. He'd complained, of course, but the others had backed Anto up. None of them wanted to get sick, not with a roadshow of Asia only a few days away.

And then Mark had started sneezing.

They'd both been checked out, been diagnosed with an extremely life-threatening case of 'having a cold' and been bundled into the London hotel room together with a raft of syrups, tablets, and very severe instructions that they only drink water and not touch the minibar.

“I don't even feel that bad.” Nicky sighed. “Can't we go out for lunch or something?”

“Anto'd kill us.” Mark looked over. The older boy was sat on his own bed, flicking through a magazine. “We could order room service?”

“Yeah, I guess.” He didn't look all that interested, just kept flicking. “I don't know. I've seen every bloody movie on pay-per-view. Half of them were on the flight coming here.”

“Mmm...” Mark agreed, picking up the remote anyway, wondering if maybe there was something on the telly, apart from about a thousand episodes of Spongebob.

There wasn't.

“What are you reading?”

“Cosmo.” Nicky held up the cover, which had a picture of Claudia Schiffer on the cover and at least one use of the word 'orgasm' in large red letters.

“Why?”

“Found it in the toilet.” Nicky shrugged. “It's not bad. I'm learning about what make-up best suits my skin tone. Do you think I'm an Autumn or a Summer?”

“I think you're an idiot.”

“There's not an option for that.” Nicky argued. “I was thinking I could be a Spring, like Heather Graham.”

“Heather Graham's a Spring?”

“Apparently.” He turned a few more pages. “She's also got a great arse, and there's a diet here so you can have it too.”

“I've always wanted Heather Graham's arse.”

“Me too.” Nicky looked back, dropping a lascivious wink. Mark snorted, grabbing a pillow from his bed and hugging it to his chest, trying to get comfortable, then sneezed. “Bless you."  
  
“Thanks.” He wiped his nose. “I don't feel that sick, just sort of... yucky.”

“Yeah, same. But I'm sure I'll be a coughing, sneezing disaster by tomorrow.” Nicky yawned, turning a few more pages. “Cosmo's telling me how to drive my man wild.”

“Thank god.” Mark laughed. “I was worried you didn't know.”

“Could have been embarrassing.” Nicky agreed. There was a moment's silence while he read. “You know, I don't think any of these writers have actually seen a cock before? Listen to this: “Put a hair scrunchy around the base of his penis while you give him oral, the tightness of the elastic will surprise and delight.”

“Will it?”

“Of course. I know the first thing I want on my cock is a bunch of elastic bands.” Nicky pulled a face. “Ouch. Oooh! Oh fuck! Found a better one! You ready?” Mark nodded, feeling himself smirk at Nicky's sudden enthusiasm. “Gently bite the skin of his scrotum.”

“No!” Mark put his hand over his mouth, feeling himself twinge in sympathy already. “Why?”

“I don't... ow!” Nicky started to laugh. “Fucking hell, Cosmo's going to cause a ton of lawsuits with this one. Shit. Who the fuck thinks it's a good idea to have a chew on your balls?”

“I know it's the first thing I think.” Mark offered. “Like, you're attractive, would you mind getting your teeth into my sack, please?”

“Absolutely.” Nicky smirked. “Do women actually read this stuff and think it makes sense? I'd hate to think there's a whole gang of girls out there getting hair scrunchies out, or...” He snorted. “Or pulling on his ears as he climaxes? Why are we pulling on people's ears? I've got a sex tip for Cosmo. It'll fix everything.” He took a deep breath, holding up an imaginary pen to the air. “Ask him what he wants, and do that.” He finished his air-writing with a flourish.

“No. Really? Fuck.” Mark chuckled. “I don't know, Nix. Might be a bit advanced.”

“And they'd never have to write another article. Though there's always the ones about how lads can drive you wild in return. Why do women need a magazine to tell them what they like in bed?”

“Their bits are more complicated.” Mark suggested.

“They're really not.” Nicky argued. “It's all right there, in one fairly neat little package. And anyway, if you're not sure, just have a poke around, find something that works, and tell your lad to do that. Worst comes to worst, you just have a fiddle, get him to watch and take notes.”

“You should let Cosmo know.”

“I really should.” Nicky agreed. “I could have a column.”

“You could.” Mark nodded. “Get Georgina to help you out. Sex tips from people who aren't obviously insane.”

“Not in that way, anyway.” Nicky shook his head, sitting up slightly and beginning to turn pages again. He was silent for a long moment. Mark sat up a little, reaching for the remote. “Can...” He looked over at the sound of Nicky's voice. “Can I tell you something? Just between us?”

“Course.” Mark nodded. Nicky bit his lip, glancing over for a second before staring fixedly back at the magazine. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, ehm...” Nicky swallowed. “Keep it to yourself, but...” His hands tightened slightly on the magazine. “Me and Georgina are over.”

“Oh.” Mark didn't know quite what to say to that. “Shit. I'm sorry.”

“Yeah.” Nicky took a deep breath, looking over in his direction. “Yeah. So.” He turned back to the magazine. “Yeah.”

“What happened?”

“Dunno. Just... life. We grew up, we grew apart, I guess and...” He turned a few more pages, blinking like he wasn't really seeing them. “I don't want to say anything yet. We're still friends, you know? But... it's a weird time to do it, right in the middle of promotion. I didn't want a thousand questions during interviews, and she's been cool about it, said she'd play it up until we go on tour and I'll say something then.”

“I'm really sorry.” Mark managed uselessly. “Anything I can do?”

“No.” Nicky chuckled, shaking his head. “No. Sorry. I've been not saying anything for like, well it was just after Christmas, so a couple of months, really, and I just... sort of needed to get it off my chest. Thanks.”

“Definitely.” Mark bit his lip, looking at the boy on the other bed. “The girls will have a field day if you're single again.”

“Can't wait.” There was a soft snort from the boy on the other bed. “I don't know. I'm not good at being single, I don't think. I haven't been in such a long time. I sort of don't know what to do with myself, not having someone to... I dunno. Just to call. To tell things to. We didn't see each other much any more, I know, but it was kind of cool, having someone there to come home to when we did get to see each other. Now there's not, and...” He sighed. “Don't know how you do it, to be honest.”

“Just used to it.” Mark shrugged. “It's not so bad.”

“You don't get lonely?”

“How can I, with you idiots always annoying me?”

Nicky grinned, closing the magazine and resting it on his folded-up knees.

“What about the sex, though?”

“What about it?” Mark shrugged again. Nicky raised an eyebrow. “Seriously, it's not even...” He raised his hands, searching for the words. “It's fine. Even if I do shag someone, it'll probably end up in the papers or something, won't it? That's even more depressing, having everyone know.”

“What, that you're getting laid? You're rich, famous, and twenty-one. I think everyone assumes you're getting laid.”

“I don't want to just shag some slapper, though.” Mark argued.

“Who do you want to shag, then?”

“Nobody, really.” Mark leaned up against the pillows, very aware of Nicky's evaluating stare on him. “I guess I'll know when I meet them, right?”

“When was the last time you got laid, though?”

“Erm... dunno.” He felt his cheeks heat slightly. He couldn't exactly say 'never', could he, and sound like a twat. “Haven't been out with anyone in a while.” He admitted, which was true. Not since that girl he'd sort of dated in high school. “I've been a bit busy.” He attempted a casual smile, trying to deflect the scrutiny he knew he was under.

“Oh okay.” Nicky paused for a second, and Mark realised he was being stared at. He thought about maybe getting up, going to the toilet or something, even though he didn't really need to. He felt his skin prickle. “Does it have anything to do with the part where you're gay?”

“Ehm...” His throat closed suddenly in panic, and when he looked over, Nicky's eyebrow was just about over the back of his head with expectation. Mark swallowed hard, pulling his knees to his chest and looking away, his eyes locking onto a terrible painting of a sailboat above Nicky's bed, just so he wouldn't have to look Nicky in the eye. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, come on.” Nicky rolled his eyes. “We all know.”

“You all know what?” Mark asked hesitantly. “I'm not gay.”

“Yeah, alright.” Nicky looked back at the magazine. “Well, feel free to say something when you're ready. No rush.” He opened it again and fixed his eyes on it, beginning to read.

Mark cleared his throat. Nicky looked over, expectant.

“Yeah?”

“No. Just... phlegm.” Mark mumbled, clearing it again. He sneezed, wiping his nose with his sleeve when he was done. “Um.”

“Mmm?”

“You all know?”

“Yeah, course.” Nicky shrugged. “I mean, we didn't _know_ know, but we just figured we'd let you get on with it so you could say something in your own time.”

“Oh.” Mark swallowed, feeling his face start to go a little pink, his heart hammering against the inside of his chest. “Oh.” He said again, looking down at his bent-up knees. “Right. So...” Nicky was looking back at his magazine. “Right.”

“If it helps, none of us care.” Nicky supplied. “You want to shag lads, you go for it.”

“I... okay.” Mark tried to think. This was all a bit anticlimactic, considering. He didn't know what to bloody do with himself. He sneezed instead, reaching over to the side-table for a tissue. Blew his nose. Nicky turned a few pages. “Um.”

“Yeah?”

“What... uh... what gave me away?”

“Nothing really.” Nicky shrugged. “You never have a girlfriend, you're a bit quiet when it comes to talking about that stuff, but in general... dunno. Just a vibe.”

“I have a vibe?”

Nicky put the magazine down again, looking over with a smile. “Are you okay?”

“I don't know.” He covered his mouth to hide a nervous laugh. “Sorry.”

“Chill out.” Nicky was standing up, then, and the mattress rolled as he sat down on Mark's bed. An arm settled around Mark, a kiss brushing his hair. “It's fine.” Fingers squeezed his shoulder, pulling him in, and before he knew it, he was being tugged against Nicky's side, a chin rested on the top of his head. “What's wrong?”

“I don't know.” Mark managed. “It's... I feel a bit of an idiot now. Everyone knew?”

“Well, not _everyone_.” Nicky admitted. “Bryan said it first, and then I was like 'well, obviously' and Shane and Kian were like 'yer what?' I think it's a bit like standing too close to one of them magic pictures. They'd just known you so long that they had to kind of step back a bit and look again and go 'oh, of course!'”

“Fucking hell.”

Nicky laughed, kissing his hair again. Mark groaned, resting his face in his hands. His shoulder was squeezed.

“What you worried about? I mean, apart from the fans and that? Did you think we'd mind?”

“I don't know.” Mark sighed. Then he felt his chest hitch, felt himself start to cough. Nicky pulled away, handing him a tissue. The older boy was a bit too warm against him, maybe running a slight temperature, and when Mark chanced a look up he realised he was a bit red and sweaty in the face. “It felt so big in my head.”

“Oh.” Nicky shrugged, settling back in. “Well... if it helps, I've got some friends I can set you up with. Nice lads. Do you have a type?”

“I don't fucking know.” Mark grabbed another tissue, wiping his nose. “I feel sick and shitty. I don't know that I'm looking for a shag.”

“Right.” Nicky paused, and the fingers on his shoulder drummed slowly, thoughtfully. “You ever shagged a lad?”

“No.” He felt himself go bright red, wiped his nose again to hide it. “Haven't.”

“Ah. Kissed one?”

“Nope.” Mark admitted softly. “Bit of a novice.”

“Hmm.” Nicky said. He didn't sound all that surprised, just like he was taking the information onboard. “Do you want to kiss me?”

Mark blinked. “What?”

“No, just...” Nicky shrugged, his hand beginning to rub the back of Mark's shoulder gently. It didn't feel suggestive or anything, just friendly. “I dunno. Haven't snogged a lad in years, thought I'd see if it was still okay, if you're up for it?”

“You...?” He shook his head, trying to make sure his ears were clear. “Wait, what?”

“Do. You want. To kiss me?” Nicky said slowly. “It's cool if you don't.”

“I...” Mark swallowed. “You're gay?”

“No.” Nicky shrugged. “Just... you know. Thing. Not curious, because there's nothing that mysterious about it, is there? I doubt I'd want to shack up with a lad, but I'll snog one on the right day. Used to make out with this lad at football, sneak off in the back and trade handjobs.”

“You've slept with a bloke?”

“Don't know that we were sleeping much.” Nicky laughed. “I wasn't like in love with him or anything. He was good at giving head, and I didn't mind wanking him on occasion. I'm not that hung up on it. It's all just bits with the lights off.”

“They're... quite different bits.” Mark pointed out. Nicky shrugged.

“A snog's a snog.” He coughed wetly, just once, putting his fist over his mouth to muffle it. “Urgh, gross. I think it's time for some more cold and flu.” He got up, patting Mark on the head as he did. “You want some?”

“Yes... please.” Mark managed, feeling totally lost.

“Cool. You want the cough syrup or...?”

“No, just the tablets.” He cleared his throat. “Ehm...” He stared at Nicky, who was rummaging around in the plastic bag from the pharmacy. “You want to kiss me?”

“Sure, why not?” Nicky shrugged. “You're a good looking lad, and frankly I'm not really ready for the rebound yet. Bit um...” He looked away, his cheeks pinkening slightly. “Bit lonely, if I'm honest with you. Sort of miss the... you know.”

“Snogging?”

“Yeah, that. And other things.” Nicky swallowed, looking back at him. “I'm sorry, this is an emotional baggage thing. I didn't mean for it to be. Just thought you'd like a snog, and you're me mate, so...” He scratched his hair, looking down at the packet of tablets in his hand. “Forget it. I feel like I'm taking advantage now.”

“Oh.” The bed rolled again. Mark reached out his own arm, this time, letting Nicky tuck himself in. He was handed a bottle of water and a couple of tablets, and took them quickly, handing the bottle back. Nicky took a sip. “Ehm... you're not. It's fine.”

“Okay. Cool.” Nicky wriggled his toes. Mark watched them dance. “Do you mind if I stay right here? I feel shit, and I sort of wouldn't mind a cuddle. Georgina used to...” He trailed off, took another sip from the bottle. “Sorry. That's weird.”

“It's fine.” Mark repeated, squeezing his shoulder. “What did she used to do?”

“Just... you know, girlfriend things. Hot tea, blankets, bit of a cuddle. Then we'd both get sick, but it was okay, because we'd take care of each other. It's funny the things you miss, isn't it? Like, it's not even the sex or anything, though that was pretty fantastic. It's the... getting picked up from the airport, and arguing over who got the last jaffa cake.”

“Was it you?”

“Obviously.” Nicky gave him a competitive grin. “But I'd let her have half.”

“Charitable.” Mark snorted. Then he realised his fingers were slowly stroking Nicky's arm. Just absently, without even meaning to. Not that there was much to feel, with the thick flannel of pyjamas over it. “I don't mind. I haven't had a cuddle in a bit either, to be honest. Or... you know. Ever.”

“Never?” Nicky looked up, his eyes surprised. “That's awful.”

“It's just a cuddle.” Mark laughed. Nicky pouted.

“You only say that because you've never had one. I'm going to cuddle your brains out.” Mark shook his head, laughing again when he got a promising smirk. “What? I'll blow your mind with my cuddles.”

“I'm looking forward to it.” Mark stretched slightly, lifting his arms above his head. He felt all stiff and achy, just knew this cold was starting to claim his joints as its first victim. He settled back again, draping his arms over Nicky's shoulder again. He reached out with his other hand, snagging the magazine from where Nicky had tossed it when he'd sat down. “Just like I'm looking forward to learning about...” He blinked, holding the magazine out to figure out if he'd read that right. “Vajazzling?”

“Classy.” Nicky commented. “I'm going to fall asleep in a second. Read it to me?”

“What, like a bedtime story?” Mark laughed.

“Yeah.” He got a snicker back. “Tell me the story of how some lass put rhinestones all over her flaps. And keep doing that thing where you were stroking my shoulder. It was nice.”

“Okay.” Mark shrugged, beginning to move his fingers again. Nicky sighed happily, leaning into him. It was a nice sigh, soft and content. Mark leaned down, and in a moment of abject bravery, kissed blonde hair. Nicky sighed again. He smiled, turning back to the page. “ _Sometimes...”_ He began. _“...you want to treat yourself..._ ”

When Mark woke, Nicky was still leaning against his shoulder, a blonde mop filling his vision and soft breaths puffing over the patch of skin bared above the top button of his pyjama top. He adjusted slightly, feeling the numbness of his arm, and heard Nicky mumble something softly in his sleep, then suck in a sort of moist grunt.

Huh.

He looked down, absently taking up the stroking of his shoulder that he'd been doing before Nicky had nodded off. He'd gotten halfway through the article and heard Nicky start to snore, his breaths each laden with a sickly gurgle, and closed his own eyes, tossing the magazine aside.

Now he was awake, and Nicky was warm against him, an arm draped over his waist and a face pressed into his neck.

“Hey.” He said softly, when he heard Nicky shift, heard a soft murmur in response.

“Hey.” Nicky croaked. “I feel fucking awful.” He coughed, wet and rattly, covered his mouth. “Urgh.”

Mark took a tentative breath, just to check. Felt it shudder through his chest like nails. “I think I'm sick.”

“You were already sick.”

“Yeah, but now I'm _sick_.” Mark explained. Nicky nodded, looking up, and he caught blue eyes that blinked slowly, a pale, shiny face. “You look like crap.”

“Thanks.” Nicky sighed. “You look like shit too.”

“Thank you.” Mark nodded, shifting again. His joints hurt, and his lungs didn't want to work properly. He sneezed, turning his face away so he didn't get it all over the man snuggled into his arms. Nicky moaned softly, shifting. “You okay?”

“Everything hurts.” Nicky grumbled. “And I can't breathe.”

“You want anything?”

“More sleep.” Nicky yawned, tightening the grip on Mark's waist. “This okay? I'm not squashing you?”

“My arm's sort of going to sleep.” Mark admitted. Nicky sat up slightly, and he began to shake it out, feeling his fingers tingle as blood rushed back in. He watched Nicky climb off the bed and over to the table in the corner. “What you doing?”

“Room service.” Nicky picked up the menu, came back. A moment later he was back in the same spot, cuddled into a comfortable embrace, head on Mark's shoulder, the menu rested between them. “Going to see if I can get a pot of tea. You want anything?”

“Tea sounds good.” Mark agreed. “Lots of honey.” He added, feeling his throat scratch.

“Cool. I'll get some fruit as well, and some bread. I'm not up to much else.” He sat up slightly, turned away and coughed, then tossed the menu away, picking up the phone next to the bed. He hung up a moment later. “They'll be ten minutes.” Mark let his fingers be parted as Nicky's hand reached across and entwined with his. It was odd, holding hands with someone. With a guy. It was warm and friendly, though, and shit, it was just Nicky. Nicky, who was looking up at him with a small smile on his face.

“Hey.” Mark attempted.

“Hey.” Nick replied, turning so his face was leant into Mark's chest. “Thanks for this.”

“It's fine. This doesn't...” He hesitated when he felt a hand squeeze his expectantly. “This doesn't seem weird to you?”

“How so?”

“Just...” Mark looked down, taking stock. He was leant back into the cushions in his pyjamas, Nicky snuggled up to his chest, their hands entwined. “You know. This.”

“Is it a problem?”

“No.” Mark decided. “Just... unexpected. You're a guy, and we're cuddling.”

“You like guys.”

“Yeah, but you're Nicky.” He laughed slightly. “You're like my best friend.”

“I'm your best friend?” Nicky raised an eyebrow. “Like, out of all your friends, I'm your best one?”

“Well... one of them. Like, I guess I'm probably closer to Bryan, and you and Shane are always...” Mark shrugged. “I don't know. You're family.”

“I don't want to cuddle with Shane, though.”

“But you want to cuddle with me?”

“Sure.” Nicky looked up. His nose was all red, and his eyes were shiny with illness, his skin splotchy and pale. “You get it. The others don't.”

“Get what?”

“What it's like...” Nicky hesitated, then squeezed his hand again. “Being lonely.”

“We're cuddling because you think I'm lonely and pathetic?”

“No... I mean...” The man in his arms laughed slightly. “I don't mean this is a pity hug, like, I'm just... I couldn't do this with the other lads. They'd be all weirded out and think I'm into them or something, or be all... well, they're not homophobic, but you know... God, could you imagine trying to do this with Kian?” They both laughed. “Do you not want to do this? I'm sorry. I just thought...” He started to pull away. Mark closed his hand tighter on his shoulder, holding him in.

“No. Stay.” He bit his lip. “It's fine.”

“Okay.” Nicky relaxed again. “One time...” He swallowed, snuggling back into Mark's chest. “Gina and I stayed in bed for two days. Just... doing this. Not even shagging. We'd go get cups of tea and that, or make food, go get books and videos and stuff and just...” He shrugged. “It was nice.”

“Sounds it.” Mark nodded. “Well, we have a dodgy Cosmo, pay-per-view movies and room service.”

“We do.” Nicky agreed. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.” His fingers were back to stroking Nicky's shoulder. He hadn't meant to, but for some reason it had just happened.

“You ever fancy one of us?”

Mark barked out a surprised laugh, shaking his head when Nicky looked up.

“God, I couldn't if I tried.”

“Wow, thanks a lot.” Nicky pouted. “I'm not fanciable?”

“You're very fanciable.” Mark assured him. “But... like I said, you're family.” Nicky was still pouting. “You're cute. You're fit. I don't know. Surely you see pretty girls and don't actually want to shag them?”

“Maybe.” Nicky conceded. “So, if I got my kit off right now you'd have no interest in grabbing my arse?”

“Is that likely to happen?”

“Well, not right now. I'm insulted.” Nicky raised an eyebrow. “And there's food coming. I'm not having the room service guy come in and finding you groping my bum.”

“Might give the wrong idea.” Mark agreed, rolling his eyes. “You're actually a lunatic, did you know that?”

“I know.” Nicky shrugged. There was a knock at the door, and he climbed out of bed, leaving Mark lain against the pillows, feeling thoroughly confused. Nicky came back a moment later, a tray held in his hands. “Tea?”

 

*

 

The day passed slowly, in a dozy haze of medicine and daytime TV. By the time it was dark and they were ordering dinner, they were all tucked up in Nicky's bed, Mark's head on Nicky's chest for a change. It was quite nice, actually, the blankets drawn up to his neck, Nicky's fingers stroking gently through his hair to the beat of the heart below his ear. He closed his eyes, listening to Nicky ask for a couple of bowls of soup and some toast.

“You want to pick a movie?” Nicky murmured. Mark shrugged, covering his mouth when he felt a cough coming on.

“Whatever.” He mumbled back. “Tired. Food. Sleep.”

“You mind if I pick one?” Mark shook his head, feeling Nicky shift while he reached for the remote. Less than fifteen minutes later, they were sat next to each other while Mark dozed over a bowl of tomato soup, the opening credits to The Perfect Storm coming up on the television.

“I'm going to sleep.” Mark announced, putting the soup aside and sliding back down in bed. Nicky nodded, reaching over and putting a hand on his forehead.

“You feel really warm.” Nicky observed. Mark closed his eyes, burying his face into the pillow. A hand began to stroke his back gently, and he smiled into the cotton, letting the low murmurs of the movie rock him to sleep. “Feel better kiddo."

When he woke up, Nicky was spooned to his back.

He sucked in a deep breath, felt it choke him as it shifted a lungful of snot. He began to cough, sliding out of bed when he heard Nicky moan sleepily, trying not the wake the older boy. When he got back from blowing his nose in the bathroom, he stood for a moment, looking at his friend.

He looked ill, sweaty, with his hair fluffed and spiked in every direction, snoring gently against the pillow. Small, and strangely fragile. Mark found himself smiling, feeling surprised fondness quirk across his face.

It was weird, he'd never even considered Nicky in this way, had been too wrapped up in the overwhelming panic of fancying guys that he'd never stopped to allow himself to fancy any guy in particular. Still, Nicky was certainly not bad looking, when he wasn't all clammy and pale. And apparently kissing him was on the table. And... grabbing his arse, potentially. Which was a weird thought.

Nicky had a nice arse. He had a lot of nice attributes. Sexy attributes, in fact. Nicky was sort of sexy. And wanted to cuddle with him, for reasons that had more to do with comfort than any sort of sexual interest, though Mark supposed it was sort of flattering that Nicky wanted to do that with him.

He sneezed, putting an arm over his face to muffle it.

He felt like absolute shit.

“Mark?”

He almost jumped, managed to rein it in a bit when Nicky cracked open an eye, looking over.

“Sorry, just blowing my nose.”

“Kay.” Nicky mumbled, sounding thick and croaky. “Come back to bed.” He sighed, reaching out an arm, snuggling his face into the pillow. “You're letting the cold in.”

“Sorry.” He sank back down, pulled the blankets up. A minute later Nicky was spooned to his back again, hands clasped on his stomach. He closed his eyes, and as he did, Nicky's hand pushed up under his t-shirt slightly, fingers warm on his belly.

“Okay?” Nicky mumbled. Mark nodded, breathing out slowly and feeling sleep tug at him.

“Okay.”

 


	2. Day Two

“Nine signs he's cheating on you.” Mark read out. They'd separated for breakfast. Mark was running a temperature and felt too stifled having Nicky wrapped around him. He sort of missed the closeness now that he was looking at Nicky on the other bed, a piece of toast balanced on his bent up knee, and wishing he felt cool enough to at least hold hands. He'd woken up with Nicky still spooned to him, a morning erection digging into his back. Neither of them had mentioned it. He'd gotten up to go to the bathroom, and when he'd come back Nicky was sitting up in bed, flicking through channels on the television.

“Number one: He's shagging other girls. Number two: He's shagging other girls. Number three...”

“He's shagging other girls?” Mark prompted. Got a laugh.

“He's shagging other guys.”

“I think that means there's bigger problems.” Mark suggested, turning back to the page. “Number One: He doesn't want to have sex with you.”

“Oh, fuck off.” Nicky laughed. “Really?”

“Really.” Mark nodded, skimming the article. “Means he's getting it somewhere else.”

“Or it just means he's not in the bloody mood.” Nicky offered. “Like, women get to be not in the mood but we have to be perverts all the time? Then they complain because it's all we think about. Make up your mind.”

“Touched a nerve?” Mark smirked, looking over. Nicky rolled his eyes.

“No, just...” He sighed. “Okay, one time I was just not in the mood. For like a month. It wasn't anything, I just wasn't. I was tired and not feeling well, and it all felt way too hard. So I didn't. Didn't mean I was cheating, didn't mean I didn't love her, it just meant when I said I had a headache, I genuinely had a headache.”

“How'd she take that?”

“Yeah, fine. She was a bit pissed off at first, the usual 'do you not want me any more?' and all that garbage, so I did other stuff. Took her out for a nice dinner and that. Bought her presents. You can still show someone you love them without getting naked.”

“Number six: he's way too romantic.” Mark read out. “If he's suddenly taking you out for candlelit dinners and buying you presents, he's probably feeling guilty about doing it with someone else...”

“Of course he is.” Nicky rolled his eyes. “That's the thing that pisses me off. It's always some sort of... of secret agenda. I can't just want to buy her flowers, because it means I'm guilty. I can't not want to have sex, because it means I don't fancy her. Well, shit, darlin', but I jerked off in the shower this morning when you weren't in the mood, and now the tank's dry.” He took a savage bite of his toast, staring straight ahead at the TV. Mark stared for a moment, then looked back at the magazine, not sure what to say.

“Do you want to hear the other seven?” He asked tentatively. Nicky nodded.

“Hit me.”

“He takes forever to text you back. Because he's texting other girls.”

“Obviously. Or his phone's on silent. Or it's not something worth replying to, like 'please pick up milk'. Or he's on the phone to his mam when it comes through.”

“No, this says it means he's cheating.”

“Of course it does.” Nicky sighed. “What's number three?”

“He agrees to plans but backs out at the last minute.”

“Because he's busy.” Nicky shoved the last of his toast in and flopped back on his bed, arms behind his head. “Keep going.”

“He wants sex too much.”

“Seriously?” Nicky rolled his eyes. “What's the right amount then? Shit, we haven't had sex three point four times this week, must be a disaster.”

“He's overcompensating for the sex he's having with other girls. Also if he's doing new moves or being extra dirty – it means he's picking up tricks from other women.”

“Or he's just bored of missionary and feels comfortable enough to tell you what he actually wants for once. Then you go and ruin it by being suspicious. Christ, I just want you to spank me a bit. It doesn't mean I'm getting spanked elsewhere.”

“Spanked? Really?” Mark laughed. “What did she say?”

“Not much. She was always pretty up for it, to be honest.” Nicky shrugged. “I don't know. She did it, but I could tell it wasn't doing anything for her, so it was a bit meaningless. Has to be a two-way street, that sort of thing. That being said, one time she wanted me to choke her a bit, and I was too paranoid to do it. Kept thinking I'd slip and hurt her.”

“Choke her? Why?”

“Dunno. That was her thing, not mine. We'd do stuff like that. You know. You're in a relationship, you want to spice things up. We had the fluffy handcuffs, the vibrators. Basic stuff. It was all in good fun.”

“Well... good for you.”

“It was.” Nicky laughed. “Our safe word was _Marmite_.”

Mark felt his face redden, laughed anyway. Nicky looked so cheerful, with a cheeky grin on his face. “Did you ever have to use it?”

“Don't think so. I did accidentally kneel on her hair once, got a slap for that. But otherwise... no. It was fun, being at that point in a relationship, where you could do the dirty talk thing and the phone sex, and all that, and you weren't both embarrassed, giggling wrecks over it.

“Dirty talk?” Mark snorted. “What would you say?”

“Dunno. Just whatever came to mind. I called her a whore once, and she was _not_ impressed. Called her a slut a week before, and she bloody loved it, so what do I know? You're so wet, I'm so hard. Whatever. She used to text me really filthy things when she was in a mood. It helped, being apart so often, that we could do that. I used to kick Shane out so we could both wank over the phone.”

“Congratulations.” Mark shook his head, feeling his cheeks still slightly hot, though he was rapidly losing the ability to be embarrassed. Nicky had never really said stuff like this before – maybe it was the fact that she wasn't his girlfriend any more, or maybe it was the fact that they'd been spooning all night, but he looked totally chilled, willing to say just about anything. It was sort of hilarious.

“Next one.”

“Number five...” Mark continued. “He goes on lots of work trips.”

“Because he has a job.” Nicky finished. “Number six.”

“Way too romantic... oh we did that one. Number seven: you haven't met his family.”

“How long?”

“Erm... says six months.”

“Bit soon if your family are embarrassing, but okay.” Nicky shrugged. “Number eight.”

“He talks about his day.”

“Oh god, not talking about his day!” Nicky clapped his hands to his cheeks, his face shocked. Mark began to laugh. “God, what if she actually knows about his day? She might think he has a life outside of her, and then where would we be?”

“And number nine: If he starts grooming too much, he's cheating.”

“Fuck off.” Nicky reached over, gesturing expectantly, and Mark handed him the magazine. He held it up, staring at it with a look of contempt. “If he's spending more time at the gym or pruning downstairs, he's trying to impress another girl. Or he's trying to impress _you_ , you self-absorbed bitch. Jesus Christ.” He tossed the magazine away, and Mark watched it tumble off the edge of the bed onto the floor.

“I was reading that.”

“No. No more Cosmo.” Nicky crossed his arms. “It'll rot your brain.”

“I'm not a woman.”

“Yeah, but now you're going to think every lad you go out with is cheating on you.” Nicky explained. “I'm not contributing to that sort of bullshit.”

“I'm not going out with any lads.”

“Yeah, but you will. You're a catch and that, aren't ye?” Nicky looked over, and Mark felt himself blush again.

“Erm... no, don't think I am.”

“Course you are. You're friendly, you don't smell, and you've got nice eyes. You're basically in.”

“Thanks?” Mark attempted. “That's all you need, is it?”

“In my experience.” Nicky nodded. “Same with girls, though. It's always porn-star tits and waxing and all that garbage, but realistically if you love her and you get on alright in the bedroom, it doesn't really matter if she's got stubbly legs and she's put on a couple. You're both going to be old and wrinkly and saggy one day anyway, so what's the difference?”

“You're such a romantic.”

“I am.” Nicky raised an eyebrow. “End of the day, nobody's perfect. I'm pretty close...” Mark rolled his eyes at that, got a smirking pout in return. “...but if you find a bloke that you like because of all the things he thinks are wrong with him, he'll probably like you back for the same reasons. Look, if you had to say, right now, what you want in a lad, what would it be?”

“Um...” Mark scratched his hair, trying to think. He'd never really given it much thought. Nicky was looking at him expectantly, though, and he wasn't sure what to say. “I don't know. Someone who makes me laugh, who I get on with.” He glanced over at Nicky, who was still staring at him, gesturing encouragingly with one hand. “Who gets that this life... that it's mental and complicated and I'm going to be gone a lot, you know? That's the biggest trouble, I think. Why I haven't bothered trying, maybe, because then if I do and it falls apart once I piss off on another world tour, then what was the point? I've come out, upended my whole life, and...” He shrugged. “Yeah.”

“You don't want to try because it might not work?”

“I don't want to try because if it doesn't work then I'm still the gay one, and there was no point having to go through all that.”

“I get ya.” Nicky nodded. “It's a shame, though.”

“What is?”

“That you don't get to try. It didn't work out with Georgina, that sucks, but I wouldn't take it back. Not for a second. Can I come over for a cuddle?”

“Yeah.” Mark pulled the blankets back. “It's easier to say that if you've had it.”

“I guess.” Nicky got up, and then he was warm and soft against Mark's side, reaching down to slide a hand into his, the blankets coming back up around their chests. Nicky's grip was hot and clammy, but Mark didn't really mind, not at all. A head leant on his shoulder. “So: funny, get on alright, understands the life. That's it?”

“More or less.” Mark shrugged. “Someone who's just there when you need them. It's getting a bit sad, calling my mam every time I'm upset.”

“You upset a lot?”

“Not really. Just nice to talk to someone, sometimes.” The hand in his squeezed. “My parents know. They're the only ones who do. It's a bit less lonely, being able to talk to them.”

“Now I know too.” Nicky stated. “You can talk to me.”

“Thanks.” He huffed out a bashful breath. “This has... been nice. Talking. I mean.”

“Good.” His hand was squeezed again. “You can keep doing it after we're well, if you like.”

“Likewise.” Mark squeezed back, leaning into Nicky's shoulder.

 

*

 

“No, we're fine, Anto.” Nicky's voice sounded clogged. He wiped his nose, sniffing back wetly. “Just... snotty. Should be fine for the trip.” He glanced over when he realised Mark was awake, dropped him a wink. “We've got two more days. I sound worse than I feel, to be honest. Mark's...” He raised a questioning eyebrow, and Mark raised a hand, see-sawing it back and forth. “He's okay too. Getting there. How are the other lads?”

Mark got up. He was busting for a pee, which was unsurprising when they'd worked their way through four pots of tea that morning. When he came back, Nicky was sitting on the bed, flicking through channels.

“How's everyone?”

“Fine. I could hear Shane and Kian in the background, making fun of us.”

“Bastards.” Mark said idly. Nicky snorted. “How are you?”

“I'm okay. Gross.” He wiped his nose. “Thinking about having a bath. A good hot one. Try to clear some of the shit out of my lungs.”

“Cool.” He stretched, feeling his joints complain. “I'll have a shower when you're done, maybe. Starting to feel gross.” He adjusted the pyjama top he'd basically been living in for two days, wondered if he had his second pair packed but didn't have the energy to go rummaging. “You want me to order more tea?”

“Yes please.” Nicky was already standing up, and as Mark reached for the phone he realised Nicky was tugging his pyjama top off. A second later, he was reaching for the drawstring of his pyjama bottoms. Before he could say anything, Nicky was starkers, wandering over to his suitcase and... oh, bending down.

“Jesus, Nicky.” Mark laughed, looking away. “No shame.”

“None at all.” Nicky stood back up and smirked. “You still up for grabbing my arse?”

“Was I ever?” Mark rolled his eyes. Nicky was standing, looking totally unaffected by the fact that he was completely naked, while Mark tried to continue looking him in the eyes. “Go have a bath, idiot. I'll order tea.” He disappeared into the bathroom a minute later, and Mark rolled his eyes again, reaching for the phone, trying to ask for a pot of black with plenty of honey without thinking about the brief, fleeting memory of the spreading crack of Nicky's arse, the hint of dark entrance. The cheeky smirk, and the offer to...

Yeah.

He heard water running, heard splashing around. The door was open, just not even an effort to close it. Mark sat down on the bed, listening to Nicky sing in the bath.

The tea came a few minutes later. He grabbed himself a cup, breathed in deep to let the steam clear his sinuses a little. Took a sip.

“Bring me in a cuppa?” Nicky called. Mark looked up.

“What, in the bath?” He called back. There was a soft, echoing chuckle.

“Yeah. Bit of milk, lots of honey.”

“Erm... okay.” Mark stood, did as asked, and by the time he stepped in, he'd steeled himself to not try to take a peek at Nicky's cock again. Which he had seen before, because Nicky was the king of inappropriate, casual nudity. Still, it was a nice cock. It looked like a comfortable enough size, for as much as Mark had ever expected a cock to be comfortable. Like he could wrap his hand around it. Nicky grinned up at him, his head poking over the edge of the bath.

“Thanks.” He took the tea, lifting it to his lips. “Quality.”

“Cool, well...” Mark was already leaving the room.

“Where you going? Hang out with me.”

“You're naked.”

“So?” Nicky shrugged. “I'm not asking you to get in. You can if you like, though.”

“Ehm... no thank you.” Mark managed. He pushed the toilet lid closed and sat down, feeling the porcelain cold and hard beneath his pyjama pants. Nicky hadn't used bubble bath, but luckily the ripple of the water was more or less hiding everything. Not that he was looking. “You really don't care, do you?”

“About what?”

“About having your clothes off. I'd be trying to cover everything at once.”

“Not really, no.” Nicky shrugged. “Everyone's got a body, don't they?”

“Yeah, but they don't usually flash it about everywhere.”

“Why not?”

“Because we're not all that bloody confident?”

“It's nothing to do with that. It's just comfortable. Like, sitting around your house on your day off, feeling the breeze on your balls. It's nice.”

“I'll take your word for it.”

“You're never just sat around naked?” Mark shook his head. “You should. It's grand. Do it today, if you want. I won't mind.”

“I'll give it a miss. Thanks.” Mark laughed, looking down. His eyes had drifted, and for a second he caught a glimpse of Nicky, bobbing slightly in the warm water. He looked away, caught Nicky's eye, and from the sparkle there, knew he'd been seen. “You're supposed to be rugged up when you're sick. I'll catch my death.”

“Excuses.” Nicky yawned, sinking lower in the tub. “We used to do it all the time. Have a day off, nowhere to be, and just sit around naked. Or in our undies.”

“I hope you had good heating.”

“It was fine.” Nicky sank, coming back up again a moment later with his hair plastered to his face. He wiped water out of his eyes. “You worry too much, you know?”

“Do I?”

“Yeah. It's all, what if people find out I'm gay, what if my boyfriend leaves, I don't want to be naked, is this cuddling weird.”

“Those are legitimate concerns.” Mark argued, beginning to feel defensive. Nicky was giving him that look again, that disarming, cocky smirk, like he had it all totally figured out. “You don't worry enough.”

“I worry about things that actually matter.”

“Well... maybe different things matter to me.” Mark reasoned. “You don't get to just analyse everyone and tell them that they're wrong. Just because you think you know everything."

Mark bit his lip, realising he'd been raising his voice. Nicky was staring at him, his gaze slow and evaluating. He swallowed, shifting uncomfortably on the toilet lid and looking away, thinking maybe he'd overstepped. There was a splash. When he looked back, Nicky was kneeling up, his elbows rested on the edge.

“Sorry.”

“For what?” Nicky grinned. “Good for you, standing up for yourself. I'm a bit proud.” Mark stared at him, not sure what to say. “Say something else. Something that really pisses you off. Hit me.”

“Fuck off.”

“You can do better than that. Tell me one thing that pisses you off about... Kian.”

“No.”

“Come on. One thing.” Nicky was laughing, now, still kneeling up in the bath. “Or anyone. Anto. Shane. Bryan. Louis. Simon. Your parents. One thing about someone you know. Me. Tell me one thing you hate about me. Make it really mean.”

“No thanks.” Mark laughed. Despite his frustration, Nicky's enthusiasm was infectious. “I don't hate anybody.”

“Come on. Look, sometimes Shane completely loses focus when I'm talking to him, and I want to slap him in the face for it. He'll ask me a question, and halfway through the answer I'll realise he's staring at his hands like they're new. It drives me bugfuck crazy. I love him, but Jesus Christ.”

“He does do that.” Mark agreed, giggling to himself. “One time he walked out of the room while I was talking to him. Asked me what I thought about this song he was working on, and before I know it he's wandered off into the toilet and I'm sitting there going 'um?' He always used to get detention because he'd be caught staring out the window.”

“I can believe that.” Nicky chuckled, collapsing back down into the water. “Your turn. Pick a person. Say something bitchy.”

“Something bitchy.” Mark mused, leaning his chin on his hand. “One time Louis was yelling at me, and I didn't mention that there was a big bit of snot hanging out of his nose.” Nicky started laughing. “He was going on about me needing to go on a diet, talking about image and all that, and I got fucking pissed off, so I left it, even though I knew he was about to go into a meeting with Simon and the record company.”

“That's brilliant!” Nicky giggled, leaning back in the water. “Fuck him, though. There's nothing bloody wrong with you.”

“Thanks.” Mark rolled his eyes. “It's harder for me, though. I'm not... like, boyband material like you.”

“Course you are. You're a cute boy who can sing. I'd kill to sing like you.”

“I'd kill to look like you.” Mark admitted.

“It's a lot of watching your food and going to the gym.” Nicky shrugged. “Honestly, you'd fucking hate it. I fucking hate it. But if I don't do it, I get Louis up my arse.”

“Tell me about it.” Mark snorted. “I know I'm not dreadful looking, but it's that whole thing where girls are screaming that they love you, and holding up signs calling you sexy and it just feels so weird. I don't think I've ever thought of myself as sexy.”

“Why not?”

“Dunno. Feels a bit arrogant, doesn't it? Maybe if I'd had sex or something, it'd be different.”

“I don't think so. Like, I can feel sexy in a tight pair of jeans or something, but that doesn't mean it's sexual as such. It doesn't mean I want to fuck, it just means I feel good. Well-turned out or whatever. Like girls putting on a cute dress to go out – doesn't mean they're inviting anything. It's just a self-esteem thing.”

“Don't have much of that.”

“What about when you're wanking off?” Nicky suggested. Mark shrugged, looking away self-consciously. “You don't ever want to make it a bit special for yourself?”

“I just... you know... wank off.” His cheeks were starting to feel hot. “It's a rub in the shower or whatever, nothing fancy.”

“Make it fancy.” Nicky suggested. “Get a bath going, put some candles on... give yourself an hour or so and go to town. Sometimes I'll stick a finger up my arse if I'm feeling super relaxed. Or edge it. Just get as close as possible, then stop, calm down a bit, and go again. Then when you finally do come it's mind-blowing. Bloody brilliant.”

And that... had some pretty distinct images going. Nicky, laid in this very bath, a finger pushing into himself, stroking himself right up to the edge, his head lolling back on the edge, bottom lip bitten under crooked teeth, holding back soft moans.

“One time I stole a pair of Georgina's nice knickers from the laundry before I left. Put it over my face and smelled her while I got on the job, then wrapped them round my cock while I finished. I missed her, and it made me feel better.”

“Did you tell her?”

“Yeah, next day. She said she was flattered, and to wash them on delicate before I gave them back.” Nicky laughed. “Fuck I miss that girl.”

“You thought about getting back with her?”

“Yeah. I mean, we both have, but... it wasn't working. It just wasn't. I think eventually one of us would have done something stupid. Cheated, maybe, or even just... I don't know. We were saying a lot of mean things. Not good mean things, like having a cheeky bitch, but real mean things. I said some pretty hurtful stuff. I'm not proud of it, but there you go."

“I'm sorry.”

“It's fine. Maybe I'll find someone else. She definitely will. She's a bloody firecracker, and she deserves someone full-time. I couldn't do that.”

“Did you think about... you know. Giving it up?”

“No.” Nicky looked over. “Which was probably the clincher. I wouldn't have given it up. She wouldn't have made me. It wasn't an option, so that sort of cemented my priorities.” He looked up at Mark. “You know, if I was gay, this would be perfect?” He pointed between the two of them. “We're on this stupid ride together, we get on alright, you make me laugh. It'd be grand. Then you wouldn't have to risk coming out, because I'm not going to tell anyone.”

“Thanks?”

“You're welcome.” Nicky grinned. He leaned over, grabbing the plug, and as the water started to gurgle he stood up, reaching for a towel. Mark got another look, this one longer, as Nicky climbed out, rubbing a towel over his hair and shoulders first, then bending down to get his legs. He stood up, wrapping the towel around his hair. Mark averted his eyes, realising he was being noticed. “Having a perve?”

“No.” Mark lied. Nicky snorted, reaching out a hand to rest on his shoulder. It brought his eyeline right level with... He swallowed, looking away.

“Perve away.” Nicky shrugged. “If you ever get naked, I'll be having a look.”

“Please don't.” Mark pleaded. Fingers tousled his hair. “I want a shower, anyway. So get out and close the door.”

“Prude.” Nicky snorted, though he did as he was told, the towel still rubbing over his hair, body naked and wet. The door closed, trapping the steam from the bath. Mark finished his cup of tea, then climbed in, trying to let the hot water soak out the confusion swathing his head.

 

*

 

“What are we watching?” Nicky asked. They were cuddled back up in bed again, the blankets all the way up to their chins. Somehow Nicky had ended up between his legs, laying back against his chest, and Mark had had his arms tugged around a slim waist. Now his chin was on Nicky's shoulder while the older boy flicked through channels.

“Um...” Mark let go for a second to cover his mouth against a cough. Nicky was sort of squashing his chest, but it felt too nice to let go. “Something funny.”

“Okay.” Nicky kept flicking. “Well, there's bloody nothing on TV. Movie?”

“Sure.” He watched as it was flicked over to the menu. “High Fidelity or What Women Want?”

“The same things men want, basically.” Nicky shrugged. “Seen both of those.”

“Whatever, then.” Mark yawned. In honesty, he was about ready for another sleep, feeling warm and snuggly and ill. “I'm probably not going to make it to the end anyway.” He closed his eyes, slumping back against the pillows. Felt Nicky tilt with him, turning slightly on his side and leaning into his chest.

“I'll just watch TV then.” Nicky murmured. Before Mark could realise what was going on, there was the warm sensation of soft lips pressing to his cheek. He opened his eyes, felt a nose bump his, saw a blue gaze. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Another kiss touched him, just above his top lip. “Aren't you watching TV?”

“Yeah.” Nicky mumbled. Lips brushed the corner of his mouth, and for a second a tongue flickered out, poking into the edge of his lip. “That's the plan.”

“You're kissing me.”

“Not yet I'm not.” Nicky breathed. Mark shivered, feeling himself harden without meaning to. Something about Nicky, sleepy and soft in his arms. Nicky turned a little more, leaning sideways against him. An arm came up around his neck, pulling them closer, their faces aligning. Mark took a deep breath, trying to think around the muddled presence of Nicky's scent. “Want me to?”

“Don't know.” Mark admitted. God, that was nice, though, feeling lips cling to his jaw, trailing hot breath where they touched. “I'm sick.”

“Me too.” Nicky mumbled. “Don't care.”

“Nicky...” He closed his eyes, unintentionally letting out a soft moan when he felt a hand slide up under his pyjama top, stroking his belly in the same spot as last night. “Oh.” He managed, feeling Nicky's hip grind into his groin, the position settling pressure right... “What are you doing?”

“Don't know yet.” Nicky whispered. “Was just going to go with it.”

“What if I don't want to?”

“Do you not? I can stop.” Nicky pulled back. He looked... god, sort of flushed, his pupils slightly bigger. Was breathing harder against him. Mark swallowed, feeling that gaze affect him. Fingers ran up through his hair, an arm still hooked around his neck. “Sorry.”

“No... um.” Mark sucked in a breath, trying to focus. “Fuck.”

“I want to kiss you.” Nicky breathed, voice rushing over his skin. “If you want to, then I want to.” He leaned in again, pressing a pout to his temple, his hoarse words rushing over Mark's ear. “You feel good. I want to be touched. Touch me. Please.” He swallowed hard, turned a little more, and Mark felt him, hard and insistent. “Need it.”

“God.” His right hand was gravitating to Nicky's back without meaning to, running up his spine. He felt Nicky shiver, felt him press in. “I don't know.”

“Then tell me to stop.” Nicky gulped. “Tell me to, and I will.”

“Nicky...” He whispered, closing his eyes. That mouth tripped down his cheek, running back over his jaw. Touching everywhere, exploring him, but skating away from his lips. Not... not close enough. Not...

He turned his head, caught parted lips, felt a soft moan rumble over his mouth. Heard himself make the same sound. The hand in his hair closed down, pulling him into it, and he groaned, arching up when Nicky ground down.

“Yes...” Was hissed against his mouth. Nicky rolled over properly, laid on top of him. Mark hitched up his knees, letting the older boy settle between them, feeling the shape of stiff flesh drag against his own. It was hot, wet, tasted slightly of illness and cough syrup, but Nicky was making soft, needy sounds in his throat, and his other hand was drifting down, pushing back under his top again and pressing into his stomach, stroking over him firm and gentle.

Their mouths tilted, going deeper, and Mark felt totally inexperienced, like he wasn't sure where his tongue was supposed to go, but Nicky was guiding him, sucking him in, teasing him slow and easy, and all he could do was hang on for the ride.

They parted a second later. Nicky coughed, then coughed again, climbing off and leaning over the side of the bed, the tickle suddenly turning into a convulsive shudder, his hand over his mouth. Mark sat up as well, stroking his back while he heaved through it, his eyes filled with tears, chest rattling.

“Shit.” He croaked finally, glancing back over. “Sorry.”

“It's okay.” Mark comforted, feeling sort of glad. He wasn't sure how far that kiss had been about to go, and figured it was probably better to end it there. Still, it had been nice, being kissed like that. By a man. By Nicky. “You alright? You want some water?”

“Yes please.” He sucked in a harsh breath. Mark heard it gurgle in his throat. “Fuck.” He sniffed in hard, then began to cough again. Mark got up, filling a glass from the bathroom tap and helping him sit up, putting an arm around him while his back shook with great hitching breaths. “I feel awful.”

“I wasn't that bad.” Mark joked. Nicky chuckled, looking up. He was blotchy, pale, but there was a small smile on his face.

“You were lovely. Sorry I ruined it.”

“You didn't.” Mark tugged him in, felt Nicky lean into his chest with a sigh. Dropped a kiss on his hair. “Get into bed. Do you want a sleep?”

“Yes please.” Nicky coughed again, wiping his mouth. “Will you stay with me?”

“Of course.” Mark agreed, kissing his hair again. “Come on.”

 


	3. Day Three

Sleeping with Nicky was easy. The blonde was spooned to his front, one hand entwined with Mark's the other tucked under his face on the pillow. Mark drifted in and out, waking slightly, then dozing again, feeling Nicky do the same, woken every now and then by one of them sneezing or coughing. The blankets were up to their chins, holding in the sickly heat of both of them. Mark was starting to feel worse as well, knew this was probably the last push before he started to get better, but it didn't help when he was running too hot and his nose was switching back and forth between being disgustingly drippy and being totally blocked.

When he woke again properly, Nicky was sat up in bed next to him, a hand stroking absent-mindedly through his hair, watching television.

“Hey sleepy-head.” Nicky smiled down when he cracked open an eye, feeling his face hard and sweaty as his sinuses objected to the movement. “How are you feeling?”  
  
“Awful.” Mark croaked. “I want to die.”

“No you don't.” Nicky pouted. “You want to sit here and watch a movie with me.”

“What are we watching?”

“This.” Nicky gestured at the TV, where there was a girl in not very much clothing at all. Mark squinted, trying to figure out what it was, and then...

“Are you watching porn?”

“Just started.” Nicky shrugged. “No movies left, so I thought I'd see how it was.”

“And how is it?” She was getting naked now. There was another girl there too, wriggling out of her knickers.

“These two are lesbians.”

“I doubt that very much.”

“Me too.” Nicky sighed. “I mean, they seem enthusiastic enough, but the blonde keeps calling the other one names and it's all a bit...” He looked down. “Anyway, good morning.”

“Morning.” Mark croaked. “I might go have a shower, if you're doing this. Doesn't look like there's much here for me.”

“I can find one with lads? No gay porn, unfortunately, but there's gotta be something with anal?”

“Thanks, but no.” Mark chuckled, getting up. “It's still got a girl in it. Bit of a turn off.” He slid off the bed, reaching for a clean pair of pyjamas to change into. He felt disgusting, was sort of hoping the steam would clear things out. “I'll be back in a minute.”

“Want me to come?”

“No.” Mark snorted. And shut the door.

When he came back out, Nicky was jerking off on the bed.

“God, Nicky!” Mark covered his eyes theatrically, trying to ignore the twinge of surprised arousal at the sight of Nicky's hand moving fast on his slick shaft, spreading pre-cum, his head tossed back a little but eyes still looking at the TV. “Come on! That's my bed!”

“We can sleep in the other one. Fuck...” There was a soft moan. “I'm almost done. Give me a...” He groaned out loud. Mark snuck another look, watched him tip his head back, bite his lip. His legs were spread slightly, knees flopped out, and Mark could see fingers dancing over the head and back down, setting an even stroke. “Oh... shit...” His back arched slightly. “Come...” He gasped, feet moving for purchase on the bed. “Come give me a hand if you like.”

“Fuck off.” Mark barked out a laugh. “Do it yourself.”

“Just offering.” He cried out softly, hand beginning to move faster. “Fuck. Oh fuck, that's...” His eyes opened, looked at Mark. Not at the TV, just directly at him, taking him in, devouring, and Mark shifted uncomfortably, not sure what to do, how to feel when Nicky whispered his name and grabbed at the blankets, hand adjusting on his cock. Before Mark knew it, he was stepping closer, not even sure why, though when he leaned down and threaded his fingers through Nicky's he had a fair idea. The grip tightened, Nicky's other hand moving fast.

“You gonna come?” He whispered hesitantly, sitting down on the bed. Nicky whimpered, squeezing his hand hard enough to hurt.

“Yes...” Nicky hissed, eyes going wide for a second before falling closed. “Yes...” He bit his lip, gasped out Mark's name again, and before Mark knew it he was leaning down to kiss him, tasting him again, feeling a tongue plunge desperately into his mouth, Nicky's lips trembling against his. Then there was a whimper, a soft shout, and Nicky was crushing his fingers, biting at his mouth, and shuddering slowly, hips jerking hard enough to rock the mattress. Mark looked down, watched him spill over his fingers, hand still moving, easing it out. He heard himself moan, pressed harder into the kiss, and felt Nicky gasp against his mouth.

He got back up, went and grabbed a washcloth, and brought it back, not wanting his bed to end up all sticky. Nicky took it, beginning to wipe off, his eyes bright and pleased.

“So... good porn then?”

“No. Dreadful.” Nicky laughed breathlessly. “Just got in a mood, thought I'd have more time.”

“I was only in the shower.”

“I know.” Nicky shrugged. “You take short showers.”

“I'm... sorry?”

“Don't be. It's probably good for the environment or something.” Nicky smirked. “Thanks for the hand.”

“I didn't give you a hand.”

“The tongue, then. It was nice.” Nicky glanced at his groin, which was being a bit of a traitor to how that had affected him. Feeling Nicky gasp against his tongue, arch into the kiss, squeeze desperately at his hand. Say his name. It had been... “Want me to return the favour?”

“Erm...” He swallowed hard. That felt a bit too full-on, as an idea, having Nicky touch him. Touching himself, with Nicky there.

“I'll touch you.” Nicky whispered, kneeling up and kissing his ear. “Let you come all over my hand.” Fingers drifted up his thigh. “Or you can jerk off while I watch you. Show me what you like.” He growled softly, teeth coming up to scrape his jaw. The fingers drifted a little higher, skirting round over his hip, then up his belly.

“I...” Mark closed his eyes, trying to think. “No. No, we're friends. It isn't...” He gulped, feeling fingers tickle over his navel, palming his stomach. “No.” He said again. Nicky nodded, pulling back.

“Up to you.” He bounced off the bed, looking totally unperturbed. “I'm feeling a bit better, anyway. You want some morning tea?”

Mark stared helplessly.

“Okay.” He managed. Nicky glanced over from the phone, smiling at him, and he shrugged. “Sandwich?”

“Sandwich.” Nicky nodded, beginning to dial.

 

*

 

“Dear Cosmo...” Nicky read out, glancing over at Mark.

He was laying on his stomach, the magazine propped up against the pillows. Mark was on the other bed, eating a packet of mixed nuts from the minibar. They hadn't really touched again, not since the weird moment when Nicky had tried to grope him and Mark had said no. He still wasn't sure if that had been the right decision or not, but Nicky had seemed entirely unaffected by it, was laid over there like nothing had happened.

“I thought you said we couldn't have Cosmo any more.” Mark teased. “You said it rots my brain.”

“Well, there's nothing else to do.” Nicky rolled his eyes. “It's have your brain rotted, or watch Scary Movie again.”

“Same thing?”

“More or less.” Nicky sighed. “You want to hear this, or?” Mark nodded, rolling onto his side to watch Nicky run a finger down the page. “Right. Dear Cosmo... I think my boyfriend might be gay. I know he used to fool around with his old university room-mate, who is out, and they're still really good friends, are always hanging out and going clubbing together. He says he loves me, and it was just a phase, but I feel like it's something more, and wonder if he's cheating on me. Should I stay with him? Please help. Sincerely, Confused.” He glanced over at Mark. “Thoughts?”

“Dunno.” Mark shrugged. “Depends on the bloke, really.” He yawned. “Did Georgina know about... football... lad... guy?”

“Matthew.” Nicky supplied. “She did, yeah.”

“What did she think?”

“Not much.” Nicky shifted slightly, bending his knees. His feet began to kick lightly at the air, paddling slowly above his arse. “I haven't seen that lad in years, and there was nothing wrong with our sex life. I certainly wasn't thinking about shagging a man while I was with her.”

“Did she think you were gay?”

“No. Think she suspected I was bi, maybe.” His feet were still moving idly. He clicked his heels a few times, like there was no place like home. Mark watched, leaning on one elbow.

“But you're not?”

“Eh...” Nicky lifted a hand, seesawing it slightly. “I don't think so. I don't  _like_  lads, it's just sometimes I'll like  _a_  lad, like it doesn't matter what he's packing, he's just a cool guy.” He glanced over at Mark. “Anyway, would you like to hear the advice?”

“Sure.”

“Dear Confused, first of all, regardless of if your boyfriend is gay or not, the main concern is that he may be cheating on you. Trust is the most important thing, so ask yourself, if he was that friendly with a woman he used to sleep with, would you be okay with it?

“As far as his sexuality goes, he's obviously not  _only_  interested in girls, so the question is, is he only interested in  _you?_ And if he has had sex with men in the past, is that something you can make peace with? It's part of who he is and can't be changed. If he loves you and is faithful, the only thing that matters is whether you can trust him. Maybe make friends with his ex, and see how they interact together – it may be perfectly innocent, and then you've got a new gay best friend.”

Nicky put the magazine down.

“Got a new gay best friend?” Mark laughed. “What, so if he's not cheating, she's got someone for fashion tips?”

“I'd never let you give me fashion tips.” Nicky shot back. “I'd end up in a black trenchcoat for the rest of my life.”  
  
“Excuse me? Sparkly belt?” Mark reminded. “And how many dodgy haircuts are you up to now? You only just ditched the curtains.”

“Yeah, well at least I've never shaved my head.”

“Fuck you too.” Mark tossed a walnut. It hit Nicky's arse, bounced off over the side of the bed.

“Are you throwing food at me?”

“You bet.” He tossed another one, managed to land another hit on Nicky's arse with a peanut. “Ooh, two for two.”

“Points if you can bounce it off my arse again.” Nicky grinned, flopping his legs back to the bed. “Go on, double or nothing.”

“Right.” He dug in and grabbed a cashew. “Off your arse, and into the bin.” He pointed at the wastepaper basket next to Nicky's bed.

“You'll never do it.”

“I will.” He aimed carefully, sitting up to get a better angle. Tossed it. Watched it hit Nicky's left cheek, then disappear clumsily over the side of the bed. “Fuck.”

“Miss!” Nicky cheered. “Told you.”

“Best of three.” Mark argued, scooping out another walnut.

“Can I have a go next?”

“Yeah, but you've got a tighter arse then mine. Bouncier. You know.”

“You've got a nice arse.” Nicky chuckled. “I'd absolutely grab it. No problems.”

“But could you bounce a nut off it?”

“We're about to find out.” Nicky grinned. “Right, two more tries, then it's my turn. Winner gets...” He looked around the room, biting his lip in thought. “Winner gets...to prank call Kian."

“You sort of want to do that anyway, don't you?”

“We've hit new levels of boredom.” Nicky agreed. “Bounce a nut off my arse, and then I'm going to call him and thank him for last night.”

“What was last night?”

“I don't know, but Shane texted me at one in the morning and they were plastered, so if a very friendly transvestite named Vera calls him, he'll probably panic for a second.”

“You're actually evil.” Mark giggled. “Don't. He'll freak.”

“I know. It'll be brilliant.” Nicky smirked. “Now come on. Nut me in the arse. And yes, I know what I just said.” He winked. Mark rolled his eyes, digging out another peanut. They seemed to be the most aerodynamic so far. He lined up, closing one eye to focus, then let it fly.

“YES!” He cheered as it plinked into the bottom of the bucket. “Got it!”

“Don't get excited. One left.” Nicky laughed. “Go on.”

“Right...” He lined up again, pursed his lips. “So if I win, do I get to call Kian?”

“No, you'll bog it up.”

“So what do I win?”

“What do you want?”

“Um...” He looked around the room. There was nothing bloody here to win. “I don't know.”

“Well, how about I take you out for a meal once this is all over?” Nicky suggested. “Proper one, with a couple of drinks and dessert and candles and all.”

“What, like a date?”

“Sure.” Nicky nodded. “I'll pick you up and all that shit.”

“Ehm...” He studied Nicky, trying to figure out if he was serious or not, but the usual smirking gaze wasn't giving anything away. “Why?”

“Because I thought you'd like a night out.” Nicky shrugged. “It's cool. It's just an idea.”

“I...” Mark swallowed, trying to think. It would be nice, going out for a meal with Nicky. It was Nicky, after all. Bit of a laugh, few drinks, whatever. He pursed his lips, looking for some hint as to what this was supposed to mean. “Okay.” He conceded warily. “I win, you take me out.”

“And I win, I get to prank call Kian.”

“Will you do that if you lose?”

“Of course. And if you lose, I'll take you out anyway.” Nicky winked. “Alright. Hit me.”

The next one was a miss. By the time they were switching positions, Nicky taking the bag out of his hand, he was thoroughly confused and feeling very exposed, lying on his stomach like this. He coughed, clearing his chest, and then rested on his elbows, glancing over at Nicky.

“One.” Nicky counted, tossing the first one. It bounced off at an odd angle, making Mark giggle at the impact, then fell between his thighs. Nicky swore.

“Too bad.” Mark taunted. “Next one.”

He felt the next one pelt him hard, and then plink off the bucket. Nicky cheered, but when they looked it had hit the edge and bounced off.

“Fuck.” Nicky swore, reaching for another one.

“Try the walnuts.” Mark suggested. “I had the most luck with them.”

“Giving tips to the enemy.” Nicky raised an eyebrow, but he scooped out a walnut anyway. “Okay, last go. Ready?”

“You know you can't win now?” Mark pointed out. “It'll be a draw.”

“But I'm not going to lose.” Nicky argued, lining it up. His face was the picture of concentration, pursed in and determined. He squinted, moving his head to line it up. “One. Two...” He let it fly on three, and Mark laughed as it bounced off and landed in the bin with a resounding clatter. Nicky cheered, beginning to do excited laps of the room, fists clenched above his head like a prizefighter.

After a few seconds he sat down again, wheezing slightly, a hand on his chest.

“Not that well, yet.” He coughed, panting. “Shit.”

“You okay?” Mark sat up, putting a hand on his back. “Need some water?”

“No.” Nicky coughed again. “Shit. Fuck.” He sneezed, then cleared his throat. When he spoke again his voice was clogged and croaky. “Fuck.” He rasped.

“Your voice is all fucked up.” Mark remarked.

“No, it's not.” Nicky cleared his throat, then grinned. “Vera's is.”

 

*

 

Mark was sitting on the edge of the bed, trying to breathe as Kian launched into an extremely profane diatribe, mostly involving Nicky's name and liberal use of the words 'fucking arsehole'. The game had been up about seventeen seconds ago, when Nicky had started laughing hysterically and Mark had joined in, not able to help himself. He was still bent double, listening to Nicky try to get a word in edgeways while Kian swore.

He'd gone totally silent, first, which had been brilliant, and then he'd slowly gone 'sorry, who?” to which Nicky had spun an extremely elaborate story that involved thanking Kian for letting her fuck him in the arse without a condom, and how he'd given out his number and told Vera to call him anytime she wanted to hook up. The fact that Vera said Kian reminded her of her grandson was also a winner. Kian had sounded not quite convinced, which was when Nicky had dropped the knowledge of a birthmark in a place nobody should have seen, but Mark had, when they were showering after gaelic football when they were sixteen, and he'd been curiously checking out Kian's arse.

“Kian... Kian...” Nicky was still gasping with laughter while Kian swore loudly over speakerphone. “Calm down, mate...” The phone cut out a second later, and Nicky ended up laying on his back, giggling, curled up around the wracking shakes of mirth.

“I thought he was going to find a way to stab you through the phone!” Mark laughed, collapsing next to him. “Oh my god, you idiot...” He rolled over to face Nicky, still laughing.

And then they were kissing.

It probably wasn't intentional. They both just turned over at the same time, not realising how close they were, their mouths suddenly right there, and...

He deepened it without thinking, felt Nicky make a surprised noise in his throat, then fingers threaded into his hair. His hand fell to Nicky's waist, feeling the hitching tremors of laughter still running through him, felt a hot mouth envelope his tongue.

Nicky pulled away after a second, licking his lips. Mark did too, their eyes locking, feeling warmth under his hand, thumbs on his temples. Then he swallowed, leaning back in.

 

*

 

“Oh...” Nicky was making heavy, pleased sounds under him, hands hooked under his arms and travelling up his back. Mark took his mouth again, feeling heat and wetness, feeling want. Nicky was arching up, wriggling against him, and it was all just... brilliant.

They'd been doing this for almost an hour, laid on the bed beside each other, trading long, exploring kisses broken only by the occasional burst of laughter as Nicky had remembered what had happened with Kian and Mark caught his giggles like an infection. Then it was back together, hands on faces, travelling down arms, Nicky's thigh hooking his, pulling him in. He'd been rolled on top a minute before, and when he looked into dark blue eyes blinking heavy above parted pink lips, he felt the slow, wanting arch of Nicky beneath him.

“Want it.” Nicky murmured, claiming his lips with a slow, deep kiss. Mark moaned, resting on one elbow so he could trail a hand down Nicky's chest, wanting to touch him. A hand slid around him, sliding up under his shirt again, palming his belly, then drifting higher, pinching at a nipple and making him whimper into the kiss, letting Nicky swallow the sound. “Want you.” Nicky added, as his lips travelled up Mark's jaw.

“Why?” Mark asked, nuzzling into Nicky's ear. “You're not gay.”

“I don't want a boy, I want  _you_.” Nicky breathed. “Let me touch you.”

“God...” He whimpered again when that hand found his other nipple, pushed his fingers under Nicky's shirt, pressed a thumb into the dip of his navel. Heard a groan. “I don't know. What if this fucks everything up?”

“What's it going to fuck up?” Nicky asked. “It's too late, anyway. You going to pretend this didn't happen?” His teeth scraped Mark's chin. “We never have to mention it again, if you don't want. Close proximity, bored out of our minds, and my hand fell on your cock.” His hand drifted down in emphasis, and Mark closed his eyes against the extremely distracting feeling of fingers tracing his thigh.

“Is that what it was?”

“It's what it can be.” Nicky murmured. “What it is, is that I fancy the hell out of you. But if you don't want this to go any further, then it doesn't. We stop now. Or stop after. That's okay too. Just tell me what you want.”

“I don't know.” Mark admitted, sitting up. He was having trouble focusing, with Nicky's fingers that close to his groin, the torturous tightness in his pyjama bottoms. He looked down, taking in the answering tent in Nicky's own pyjamas. Nicky shuffled back, sitting up too and looking at him.

“Do you want to just kiss a bit more?” Nicky suggested, his eyes suddenly sympathetic. “Snuggle up under the blankets and have a bit of a snog?”

“Um...” He hesitated, considering. Fingers ran through his hair. That wouldn't be so bad, would it? Except for the part where he was getting a bit... desperate. “Can... I take care of this first?”

“Can I watch?”

“I...” Mark swallowed, trying to tear his eyes from the hungry gaze settled on him. “No.” He shook his head. “Just... wait here and I'll...”

“You want me to run you a bath?” Nicky asked. Mark laughed, shaking his head again.

“It's just a wank.” He leant in to press a light kiss to Nicky's lips. “I'll be two minutes.”

“Okay.” Nicky shrugged. “Call out if you want a hand.”

 

*

 

When Mark woke later that night, he felt much better. His chest clearer and throat hurting less. He swallowed hard, felt it still rasp painfully.

“Welcome back.” Nicky said softly, stroking fingers through his hair. Mark looked up, taking stock of where his head was laid in Nicky's lap, the older boy sitting up against the pillows. His lips felt kissed, his cheeks a bit itchy from the stubble that had ground against his face while they'd been snogging.

He'd run to the bathroom, sorted himself out. Had thought of Nicky, thought of him waiting in the other room, arching under him, feeling vaguely guilty thinking of him when he wasn't willing to do anything. Then he'd come back out, slid back into bed, and they'd kissed for... god, he wasn't even sure how long. Just knew he'd drifted off to sleep with soft pecks peppering his cheeks, fingers entwined with his.

“What time is it?” He mumbled. It was dark, hadn't been when he'd nodded off.

“Almost ten.” Nicky picked up the remote, turned the volume down. It was just some late-night variety show. “Anto called while you were asleep. Doctor's coming in to check on us in the morning, and we'll probably be out of here first thing the next day. Flight's at eleven.”

“Okay.” He yawned, sitting up slightly. The hand in his hair drifted down to his back, stroking gently between his shoulderblades. “We kissed.”

“We kissed a lot.” Nicky snorted. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Mark nodded. “It was nice.” It had been just like the cuddling had, all wrapped up the blankets and getting to feel wanted, getting to feel hands touching him, exploring him in a way that, while chaste, had been totally consuming. Just... being. With someone who apparently got him, who didn't care what he was as long as he was himself. “I feel better.”

“I do too.” Nicky smiled. He looked better, his face almost it's normal colour, eyes clearer. “Would you like something to eat? We've got about ten minutes until last call on room service?”

“I... yeah.” He was ravenous, all of a sudden. Reached for the menu, trying to think when he'd last eaten, apart from the half bag of mixed nuts that were scattered across the carpet still. He was calling a minute later, asking for some soup, bread and a plate of barbecue chicken wings to split. He stood up, stretching his legs, and headed for the balcony, wanting a bit of fresh air. The breeze was cold out here, but he sank into a chair anyway, looking out at the dark skyline. Nicky sank down next to him a minute later.

“That's better.” Nicky sighed with relief. “I was starting to think I'd never leave that bloody room.”

“You still haven't, really.” Mark pointed out. “This is good, though.”

“It is. Quite romantic, actually. Stars, moon...”

“Some drunk bloke yelling...” Mark finished. Nicky laughed, standing again and looking down.

“Oh, he's really going off, too.” Nicky chuckled, leaning his elbows on the railing. Mark joined him, giggling as six storeys below some lad was dragged toward the building by a girl. “What's he saying?”

“Can't tell.” Mark squinted, trying to hear, but the traffic below was too loud. “Wait... is that Bryan?”

“Is... oh shit, it is!” Nicky gasped, then started to giggle. “Shit... BRYAN!” He shouted. Bryan didn't look up, but the girl did, and Mark laughed, calling out to her.

“KERRY!”

“WHAT?!” Her voice was barely audible. They were both drunk, obviously, because as they watched the two of them looked up, then stumbled against each other. Bryan went down a second later.

“LADS!” He cried out, climbing back to his feet. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

“SHUT UP!” The voice came from a few storeys above. Mark twisted his head, feeling the world spin sickeningly below him as he looked up. “WAIT... MARK?!”

“SHANE!” Mark waved, but looking up was way too freaky, even though he wasn't scared of heights. He looked back down at Bryan, who was waving up.

“NICKY?!”

“HEY KIAN!” Nicky giggled, glancing up too. “BRYAN'S DRUNK!”

“OH, FOR FUCK'S SAKES!” Kian shouted. “KERRY, BRING BRYAN INSIDE!”

“WHAT?!”

“WHAT?!”

“TAKE BRYAN INSIDE!” Nicky offered. She stared up, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I WAS TRYING TO! THEY'RE DISTRACTING ME!”

“YOU CAN'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO!”

“GO INSIDE, BRYAN!” Mark called down. Bryan glared, then did as he was told, tromping into the building.

“THANKS!” Kian shouted down. “HOW YOU FEELING?”

“SICK!” Nicky called back. “HOW'S VERA?”

“FUCK YOU!”

“LADS!” Anto, a few windows down from them. Mark and Nicky waved. “STOP SHOUTING! IT'S LATE! YOU'RE PISSING EVERYONE OFF!”

Mark looked around, and sure enough there were people on some of the other balconies, watching the show and looking annoyed.

“Who's Vera?” He heard Shane ask, just before the door above them closed.

There was a knock.

“Ooh, room service!” Nicky disappeared back inside.

Mark followed him.

 

*

 

“So, what you're saying, is that you've never gotten your kit off in front of  _anyone_?”

“Unless you count my mam when I was really little... no.” Mark shrugged. “Is it that weird, though? Really?”

“School showers?”

“Wore my swimming trunks.”

“Doctor?”

“Never really had to go. And there's the robe thing.”

“Shit.” Nicky laughed. “Now I'm just curious. Are you hiding a tail or something? An extra nipple?”

“No, just... hasn't come up.” Mark leaned back against the pillows, snagging a wing and beginning to gnaw at it. He was getting barbecue sauce all over his fingers, but didn't really mind. Somehow this had ended up being the bed where they were causing a mess, which worked out well because they'd been sleeping in the other one. There'd been no maid in, not with the room constantly occupied, and it was becoming a tableau of stains, discarded clothes, and scattered pillows and plates. The Cosmo was probably around here somewhere too.

“Are you going to get naked with me?”

“Is it going to go that far?”

“I'd like it to.” Nicky admitted. “No pressure, just saying.”

“How did we get to this?” Mark asked. “You just said you wanted a cuddle, offered me a pity snog, and now I feel like it's forgone that we're going to shag.”

“Is it?”

“I really don't know.” He sighed, tossing the leftovers back on the plate. “I feel a bit like you're assuming I'm into you.”

“Are you?”

“I don't know.” Mark picked up a piece of bread, used it to wipe the sauce off his fingers, then began to eat it. “I'd never thought about it.”

“Me neither.” Nicky admitted. “I was with Georgina, and I really loved her. Didn't look at anyone else. But the last couple of weeks...” He peered up at Mark from beneath lowered lashes, looking unsure all of a sudden. “I don't know. Since we broke up, I... I have to admit, I've fancied you.”

“You're not gay.”

“Are we really going to go over this again?” Nicky looked exasperated. “I don't give a shit. All I know is, if anyone had to be stuck in this room with me while I was sick, I'm glad it was you.”

“Likewise.” Mark nodded. “Despite the... you know. It's been good.” He finished the last mouthful of bread, reached for a bottle of water. He could actually swallow now, which was nice, though he was starting to feel tired again, his joints still achy. “So... what do you want here? Like, are you... do you just want to fuck me or...?”

“I want whatever you want.” Nicky grabbed a bit of bread as well. “Honestly. If you want to stop this right now, we can just stop. I'll miss it, but...” He took a bite, his voice muffled while he chewed. “Maybe it won't even be anything, once we leave this room. Things'll go back to normal. Maybe it's just being all crammed up together and talking and... it's been good, being able to talk to you about things, and it's been nice having you talk to me. I can't remember the last time I had a real conversation. It's always crap about the band, or stupid things with the lads that don't mean anything, but we've... I don't want it to sound like you're a replacement for Georgina, but she was the last person I could do that with. I guess it's not even her. I guess I just function better in a relationship.”

“You want to be in a relationship?”

“If you want that.” Nicky shrugged. “I don't mean that to sound clingy, or like I'm rushing things, but I feel like I could do that with you, maybe. At the end of the day, it's just having a best friend that you're sexually compatible with.”

“I think it's a bit more than that.” Mark argued. “I think there has to be love, or something.”

“You don't love me?” Nicky raised an eyebrow. “I love you.”

“Are you  _in_  love with me, though?”

“I could be, eventually.” A hand touched his knee, warm through his pyjama pants. “But first I was just going to take you out to dinner, try to snog you a bit more, and maybe get you out of your clothes.”

“Bit forward?”

“Maybe. You want me to lie to you? This isn't Cosmo. I'm not going to throw a thousand hidden agendas at you, or try to pretend things aren't what they are.” The hand on his knee squeezed gently. “I could date you, I could fuck you. These are things I could do.”

“Are we negotiating a relationship?”

“Maybe.” Nicky shrugged. “Are you interested?”

“I really don't know.” Mark admitted, trying to think around his confusion, around the constant, warm pressure of a hand on his knee, the remembered brush of kisses on his mouth. “I like kissing you.”

“I like kissing you too.”

“And the cuddling was good too.” He said softly, reaching down to curl his fingers into Nicky's. “You're... really cute. Attractive, I mean. Sexy, even. But...” He looked down at their joined hands. “What if it doesn't work out?”

“What if it does?”

“What if it doesn't?” Mark repeated. “If we split up, and it goes badly. Or if you decide you're not gay after all and want to leave me. Or if we leave this room and a week later you realise it was all just... fake. Being crammed together.”

“We're always crammed together.” Nicky pointed out. “Tour buses, hotel rooms, all that shit.”

“It's not the same.”

“Or it's being able to be around the person you're with often enough that you don't have to worry about drifting apart.”

“So that's it? You want me because I'm nearby?”

“It's a definite bonus.” Nicky smirked, looking up. “Not having to call someone every day and only see them once a month. Being able to slide into the same bed at night. It sounds nice.”

“It does.” Mark murmured, feeling the sidling loneliness that always dogged him starting to creep away, like darkness before a torch. Be with someone all the time, know he had someone who was looking out for him, who he could talk to...

But he had that anyway, as these past days could prove. He had Nicky, regardless. His friend.

He looked back up, caught bright blue eyes that smiled affectionately at him. Smiled back.

Felt the memory of damp kisses sliding over his lips, the sudden rush of arousal as he'd stood in the shower, thinking of Nicky, sat atop him, looking down at the hardness in his pyjama pants, felt teeth scrape up his jaw. The spark. The thing that didn't make it feel platonic. Made it feel more. Made it feel like he wanted to curl his hand into Nicky's and not let go.

“We could try it.” He suggested. “Just... for a bit. See what happens. And if it doesn't work out...”

“That's fine. Absolutely.” Fingers reached up, curling against his cheek. “You're utterly gorgeous, you know that?”  
  
“You're crazy.”

“I know.” Nicky gave him a cheeky smirk. “I'm completely mental.” He leaned in a little closer, tilting his face up. “Hello.”

“Hey.” Mark bent, feeling their noses rub together. “I'm tired, and really not well yet. I want to sleep. With you.”

“I would love to do that.” Nicky murmured, tipping his head. Their lips brushed. Not even a kiss, just a touch. “But you have to be big spoon.”

 


	4. Day Four

“Cough.”

Nicky did, leaning over with a stethoscope pressed up under his top. The doctor listened, moving it around, then asked him to cough again.

Mark sat on the other bed, watching. He'd already had his go, had been diagnosed as being on the mend and more or less fine by the next day. It was all obvious stuff. Plenty of fluids, no alcohol, stay warm, chicken soup.

He'd woken up that morning with Nicky curled up on his chest, head in the crook of his neck, cock jabbing him in the thigh. It had been nice, looking down into closed eyelids, feeling fingers up under his pyjama shirt and clasped gently on his waist, sleepy and comfortable. He'd kissed Nicky's forehead, felt a slight content thrill that he hadn't expected when the older boy had mumbled softly in his sleep and turned into his neck, hand tightening on his hip.

Then, when they'd woken, a bit more snogging, tasting morning breath that was sour and sickly, but not minding at all when he heard a soft moan, felt fingers climb his back and into his hair, tugging him into another kiss and another and another, hooking a thigh over Nicky's legs and maybe starting to initiate something, feeling a surprised whimper when he'd rubbed them together. Kissed down Nicky's throat, his hands getting bold enough to close on a warm, firm arse and tug in.

“Yes...” Nicky had whispered, wrapping around him. “Mark...”

Now he was asking for a lollipop, as the doctor handed them more cold and flu tablets and packed up his bag. Mark laughed, shaking his head, then realised it wasn't a joke.

“I don't see why I couldn't have one.” Nicky argued a few minutes later, sat on the bed with the blanket cocooned around him.

“He's come in to see adults. Why would he even bring some?”

“Could be an emergency. A little kid gets a scrape in the lobby, and he has to stop. Not thinking ahead.”

“Well, he did leave more tablets.” Mark argued, popping a couple out of the blister pack and into his hand. He passed them to Nicky and then got a couple more for himself. He ducked into the bathroom, swallowed his own, then refilled the glass for Nicky, bringing it back.

Nicky wiped water off his mouth when he was done, looking up. Mark bent, pecking his lips.

“Nice.” Nicky murmured. “Want me to put some vaporub on you?”

“No.” He sat down, pulling Nicky into a hug through the layers of duvet. “It was nice making out with you this morning, though.”

“It really was.” Nicky agreed, holding out one end of the blanket. “Get in here with me. We'll watch some telly or something. Have a snuggle.”

“Okay.” Mark shifted closer. The blanket closed around him a second later, pulled around their shoulders, their legs sticking out the end. He moved a foot over, kicking gently at Nicky's ankle, got a fond nudge back.

They sat like that for ages, staring blankly at the television, their hands slipping together in the confines of the blankets. When Mark looked down, he realised Nicky was asleep against his shoulder, sunk against him, and he smiled, sliding them down in the bed so they could lean on the pillows. Nicky snuffled into his chest, cracking his eyes open slightly.

“Non-drowsy, my arse.” He mumbled. Mark snorted, kissing his forehead and tugging him close.

 

*

 

“Mmm...” Nicky moaned against him, rocking in. They'd woken with the blankets still wrapping them, arms around each other. They were trapped still, the blankets closing them in while their hips moved together, hands on his arse to set a rhythm.

“Fuck...” Mark mumbled, grinding in, feeling lust jolt through him when Nicky moaned again, tilting into a harder kiss. “Fuck. Nicky.”

“Mark... uh...” Nicky's head tipped back, his lip bitten as he groaned. Mark kissed his throat, felt stubble prick his mouth, sharp where neither of them had been bothered to shave while they were stuck away from the public. “So fucking good...” He whimpered, hips moving harder. “I'm going to...” He bent down, caught Mark's lips again. Mark accepted, kissing back hard, knowing what Nicky was about to do, not sure he could stop. Not with the blankets tangling them, not with the hard pressure of movement against him. He was pushing the edge as well, feeling a man against him properly for the first time, the smell of it, the feel, finally getting that thing he'd known somehow was right for him.

Feeling Nicky.

“Oh...” Nicky gasped. “Yes...” His hips moved faster, suddenly, jerking, and then... oh, warm and wet and soaking through their pyjama bottoms. Mark heard himself make a moaning whine and didn't care, not when Nicky was reaching between them, rubbing at him through his pyjamas, fingers curving around him.

“Nix...” He gulped.

“Come for me, love.” It was gasped against his ear, hot and breathless. “Come for me. Want to feel you.”

“Ah...” He closed his eyes, everything too much. Felt it strike him like a stone, sparking inside him while Nicky licked down his jaw, claimed his mouth. “Nicky...”

A tongue pushed into his mouth as he let go, and he wrenched his head away, fingers twisting into his hair and holding him in place while he sobbed out his orgasm, Nicky nuzzling into his cheek while he filled his underwear with slickness, burning out of him and into a hand that stroked over him, encouraging him all the way, soothing words whispered in his ear, soft, heartfelt things that made him want to cry as soon as he could figure out how to think again, how to feel something other than...

“That's it...” Nicky was murmuring. “That's it... I've got you.”

“Fuck.” He managed, leaning his forehead against a shoulder, feeling it slide in sweat. Fingers stroked him, caressing his hair, the other hand sliding off him and closing on his hip, making calming circles. He giggled, not able to help it, and heard Nicky laugh as well, his voice still breathless, a little croaky from his cold.

“Okay?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, feeling exhausted suddenly, his exertions reminding him that he was still sick. He felt the blankets peeled away, shivered in the suddenly cooler air, and grimaced when he realised how sticky he was. “Fuck, they were my last clean pyjamas.”

“We'll just have to be naked then.” Nicky grinned, looking down at himself. “This was it for me, too. But first we need a shower.”

“You can go first.”

“We can go together.” Nicky pecked his nose. “Don't be shy, okay?”

“Erm...” Mark looked down at himself. He'd just been wanked off, he knew that, but that was just... This was a lot more like being properly intimate, like showing a lot more of himself than he thought he was comfortable with. Didn't want to be disappointing, not when Nicky was so...

“I want to see you.” Nicky said softly. “There's nothing wrong with you.”

“There's a lot wrong with me.”

“There really isn't.” Nicky chuckled. Fingers touched his cheek. “Tell you what, how about a bubble bath instead? It's a big bath. We'll have a quick wipe off, and you can get in first.” He leaned in, pecking Mark's nose again. “I want you. I'm not going to change my mind.”

“Yeah.” Mark looked away, felt fingers brush his cheek. “Okay. Yeah.”

“Cool.” Nicky stood, peeling his pyjamas off already. His pubic hair was sticky with crust, but he looked totally at ease, even when he propped one foot up on the edge of the bed and tugged his top off, his cock hanging half-softened between his legs. Mark stared at it for a moment, blushing when he realised he'd been caught. “Having a perve?”

“Maybe?” Mark admitted, trying to make eyecontact. Got a smirk.

“Good. Me too.” A hand landed on his shoulder. “Come on, you.”

 

*

 

It was weird, being naked with Nicky right across from him, their legs all tangled up together in the middle of the bath. He'd slipped in while Nicky had covered his eyes, giggling like they were playing hide and seek, and blushed while Nicky had sunk in as well, the water rising, the bubbles already beginning to burst and flatten between them.

“This isn't so bad?”

“No.” A foot poked his. “It's fine.”

“Brilliant.” Nicky grinned, splashing him lightly. Mark splashed back, getting a laugh in return. “Well, here's to your first actual time being naked in front of someone that isn't your mam.”

“Thanks. I'll put that on a badge or something.”  
  
“Wouldn't fit.” Nicky smirked. Then he was kneeling up, shuffling over to settle between Mark's legs. He spread them a little wider, feeling the cold porcelain trap his thighs. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He replied. “What you doing?”

“This.” Lips touched his, and he smiled into the kiss when hands settled on the side of his face, sliding down his neck and out over his shoulders. Slid his own hands up a slim waist, then hesitantly up Nicky's chest, feeling nipples under his palms, fluttering stomach muscles when he slid back down again. Heard a sigh of pleasure, felt it puff over his mouth. “I like you naked.”

“You haven't seen it yet.”

“Don't care. It's not a... you know, thing. It's a state of mind. You're very sweet and shy when you're naked. I want to touch you all over.”

“Ditto.” Mark mumbled. His hands drifted lower, testing the feel of narrow hips, strong thighs, back up to palm firm buttocks and remembered being asked if he wanted to grab Nicky's arse only a couple of days before. “This has been madness.”

“Good madness?”

“I think so.” He watched his hands drift inwards through the water. “Can I...?”

“Definitely.” Nicky reached down, guiding his wrist, and then...

“S'nice.” He murmured, feeling half-hard flesh settle into his grip, bobbing slightly in the water. The head was just poking up over the top, foamy bubbles floating on the tip. He ran his hand down, pulled back up again, felt Nicky shudder. “Okay?”

“Fine.” Nicky smiled, running fingers through his hair and kissing him again. “Don't expect me to come again, but if you want to touch...”

“I... yeah.” Mark swallowed, running his thumb over the head. Hands settled on his shoulders, thumbs stroking his neck. When he looked up Nicky was watching him earnestly, eyes evaluating. Content. There was no judgement there, none at all, just a sort of intent interest while Mark slid his grip down, cupping balls in his hand and feeling them loose in the water. “You feel good.”

“I do now.” Nicky shuffled closer, then sank down, arse resting on his calves as he knelt in the water. A second later there was a hand sliding down his chest, going deeper into the water, and Mark shifted, feeling self-cons...

“Oh.” He bit his lip, eyes fluttering closed. Nicky snickered, kissed his ear. “Nice.”

“You are.” Nicky chuckled. “You're extremely nice.” The fingers closed tighter, thumb rubbing up at the base of the head, tickling over the nerve there, and he arched into it without being able to stop, locking his hands on the side of the tub to avoid going in. The hand left a moment later and he moaned his disappointment, opening his eyes to catch a smirking gaze.

“Why'd you stop?”

“Because the water's getting cold, and we're still sick.” Nicky explained. “Let's get out. Blankets and tea for both of us.”

“I'll go in a minute.” Mark attempted, sinking a little lower under the surface. A kiss pressed to his lips.

“Come on.” Nicky urged. “Our pyjamas are fucked anyway, so I'm going to see it sooner or later. And there's absolutely nothing bloody wrong...” His fingers reached again, squeezed, and Mark whimpered as they let go and trailed up his stomach. “...with this.”

The water splashed as they got out, Mark feeling awkward while Nicky reached out, wrapping a towel around him and beginning to dry, rubbing down his arms, and then bending to dry off his legs. Mark was about to protest, say he could do it himself, when he felt lips press to the tip of his cock, a tongue flicker out for a second, then Nicky was standing again as though nothing had happened, except for the cheeky pout he pressed to the corner of Mark's mouth.

“Gorgeous.” He said, taking Mark's hand. “Let's get you into bed.”

 

*

 

“Fat busting workouts for your star sign.”

“You're not fucking serious.” Mark glanced over in surprise. Nicky held the page open and... yep, that was real. “Why do we still have this thing? Have you not read it cover-to-cover yet?”

“More or less. It's basically this left, or the perfect jeans for my arse.”

“All of them?”

“That's what I would have said.” Nicky snorted. “Right, what are you? Gemini?” Mark nodded, sinking down and resting his head on Nicky's shoulder so he could see the page. An arm came around his shoulder, holding him in, the blankets tugged up to his neck a minute later.

It was sort of nice, feeling warm skin against his side, the sparse hair on Nicky's legs where they were curled up together. He'd been a bit nervous, but they were well and truly covered, and he'd started to relax, to focus on how good this felt instead of how awkward he was. Nicky wasn't the slightest bit perturbed, just kept touching him gently, not pushing too far, and holding him in, warm and safe.

“Gemini... you are thoughtful and easily bored. Take up pilates to build strength and flexibility in a creative way.”

“That sounds bloody awful.” Mark sighed. “Can't I just have a bacon sandwich instead?”

“No, that's just for if you're a Pisces or something, probably.” Nicky snorted.

“What are you, then?”

“Libra.” Nicky read out. “A friendly, peaceful cooperator.” Mark couldn't help it, he started laughing, got a disdainful look. “What? I'm cooperative.”

“Sure you are.” Mark chuckled, covering his mouth as he felt his laughter start to affect the scratch still in his throat, not wanting to cough suddenly. “Keep going.” He urged, looking at the page.

“Look at barre or ballet... oh, fuck off.” Nicky scowled when Mark began to laugh harder. “I'd be great at ballet. It'd be good for... for focus on my trouble zones.” He read. “Hips, thighs and butt, and work on my balance and grace. What the fuck are you laughing at?”

“Balance and _grace_?” Mark exclaimed. “Really?”

“I'm very graceful.”

“You're not.” Mark shook his head. “You're a lot of things, but graceful is not one of them.”

“What am I, then, if I'm not graceful?”

“You are...” Mark stole a kiss, felt Nicky steal one back. “Sweet, sexy, and bit of a know-it-all...”

“I know.” Nicky said promptly, smirking down at him. “Especially the sexy part.”

“Especially.” Mark agreed. “You are also a massive idiot when you get in a mood, secretly a bit of a romantic, and really competitive.”

“So I should play football, then?”

“Exactly.” Mark nodded. “Missed opportunity.”

“Ah, everything worked out for the best.” Nicky tugged him in tighter, a hand closing on his waist. “You okay, there? Not too cold?”

“I'm fine.” He looked up, caught a blue gaze. “Thanks for the last few days. They've been nice, if odd.”

“Just like you, then.” A kiss touched his forehead. Mark slid his hand up a thigh, feeling long muscle, then the crease at the top. Moved it inwards, feeling warm flesh fill out his hand. “You after something?”

“Maybe.” Mark nodded. “You?”

“Sounds good.” A hand shifted up his own leg, squeezing gently up the inside until it was almost... “Let me see you.” Mark was already agreeing, feeling that hand touch him, sliding up further, squeezing like it was testing him. He closed his eyes to better feel the contented rush shoot up through his body. Kisses pressed to his ear.

“Okay.” He said, giggling when Nicky threw back the blankets and rolled on top of him.

 

*

 

Lunch was soup again, eaten out on the balcony. Anto heard them talking and poked his head out, asked how they were feeling, and didn't mention at all the fact that they were both wearing nothing but their robes and slippers, or the fact that they'd been holding hands until they realised they had company. Mark didn't think he'd seen the hand-holding thing, but he couldn't be sure either way. Regardless, the moment he disappeared their hands slid back together, the feeling of Nicky making him unexpectedly content.

He couldn't remember being content like this. He was unsure, of course, nervous that this was just a weird anomaly that would would fall apart the minute they left the room, but despite that he suspected that it wouldn't affect their friendship. That if he was ever feeling lonely again, and both of them were single, that he could still go to Nicky for a snog, for a cuddle. It was sort of liberating, having no expectations, no risks. Nicky was there. Nicky would always be there.

Nicky was starkers on the bed, reading the newspaper.

“Anything good?”

“Well, I don't know if it's relevant to us, but you know that boyband Westlife?”

“Irish lads? Can't dance?”

“That's the one.” Nicky nodded. “Well, apparently they're headed for a breakdown. Louis Walsh is pushing them too hard, and two of them haven't even been seen in the last three days.”

“Oh god, I wonder where they are?” Mark sighed. “I hope nothing's happened to them.”

“No, it says here that Kian Egan mentioned in a radio interview that Mark Feehily and Nicky Byrne are off with illness and would be back in a few days.”

“Nothing serious, I hope?”

“Doesn't say.” Nicky nodded seriously. “Well, I hope they'll be alright.”

“I'm sure they will.” Mark promised. “I mean, they're celebrities, right? Best medical care money can buy?”

“Bastard didn't even have lollipops.”

Mark smirked, leaning down to kiss the pout away. Nicky returned it, stroking a hand over his thigh when he sat back up.

“And, with the gruelling thirty-six hour signing launch for their second album at the end of last year, how long they can keeping going is under serious consideration.”

“God, that was a fucker, wasn't it?” Mark lay down next to him, glancing over at the article. The photo was almost a year old, the five of them at some outdoor concert. “I've never had so much Red Bull in my life.”

“I remember getting to around hour seventeen and going 'oh god, we're not even halfway'.”

“I think I fell asleep while I was signing.” Mark admitted. “Closed my eyes for a second, and then when I opened them there was a different girl in front of me, holding out a CD. Then another one.”

“And another and another.” Nicky recited. He yawned, looking up. Mark let his fingers trail down a pale arm, then across, walking absently over Nicky's chest. Fingers linked with his for a second, then let go, letting them continue on their way down Nicky's stomach before flattening, stroking back up.

“I caught Kian crying in the toilets.”

“Did you?” Nicky looked up, his face surprised. “When?”

“On the last flight. I think it was around hour thirty, and I went to go to the loo on the plane and he'd forgotten to lock the door. He was just sitting on the lid, having a bit of a cry. We didn't mention it after. I got it, you know? And when he came out he was fine.”

“When was the last time you cried?”

“I don't, really.” Mark shrugged. “Like... it's not something I do. I get sad, go off and sit by myself for a while, maybe get a bit frustrated or have a sleep or something, but...” He circled his fingers around a nipple, watched it harden slightly. “It's not something I've ever done. It has to be something pretty big.”

“When was the last time, though?”

“I couldn't tell you. Maybe when my grandfather died, or... I dunno.” He switched over to the other nipple, the first one well and truly peaked under his fingers. Started stroking his thumb back and forth, and smiled when he saw Nicky push into it. “How about you?”

“Probably when Georgina and I were breaking up.” Nicky said. “I cried a lot for about a week, just sort of wandered off to my room and let it out.”

“You never said.”

“It was easier not to. And I was fine. It was just... at night, getting lonely and not having anyone to talk to. I felt like I was bottling it up too much, so I just had a bit of a cry.”

“Did you feel better?”

“Yeah.” Nicky nodded. “I did. I do.” He looked down at Mark's fingers. “That's really nice, you doing that.”

“This?” Mark continued stroking his thumb back and forth, pressing down slightly as he ran over the hard peak. Nicky pushed into it again, his hips moving slightly in time with the movement. He was hardening slightly, but not in any urgent way, just in a way that looked generally comfortable. “Are you not cold?”

“Not really.” Nicky shrugged. “Not any more, anyway.” A cheeky grin split his face and Mark laughed, going back to the first nipple. “You want to hear your horoscope?”

“Not if it means doing pilates.”

“No. Gemini.” Nicky looked up. “Give me a kiss first, yeah?”

“Why?”

“Because.” Nicky leaned up slightly and Mark ducked to meet it. It started as a peck, but soon was more, Nicky's hand loosening on the newspaper until it was dropped, Mark's fingers sliding away from the nipple and down his belly, feeling him arch slowly under the touch. Fingers curled in his hair, and Nicky turned onto his side, pressing against him. A tongue wove into his mouth. “Want to go again?” Nicky breathed against his lips. “I want you.”

“I don't know that I have the energy.” Mark admitted, hating the fact. “I'm still not well.”

“Okay.” Nicky nodded. He turned over, spooning to Mark's front, and reached for the newspaper again. Mark laughed, wrapping an arm around a slender waist. Nicky was thoroughly confusing, but it was sort of gorgeous, being wanted so suddenly, and then being left as soon as he said no. Like desire and respect all in one go. He kissed the back of Nicky's neck, feeling overwhelmed.

“Tell me about Libra.” He said, feeling Nicky wriggle happily against him.

“Libra.” Nicky stated. “Seek closure in a part of your life that has been preventing you from moving on and you will truly appreciate your blessings. Celebrate your fresh start by helping others, and use your artistic skills to beautify a dull and uninspiring space.” He glanced over at Mark. “Sounds about right.”

“I'm a dull and uninspiring space?”

“Do you feel beautified?” Nicky joked. “No, you're the blessing. I think the dull space is me.”

“You're not dull.”

“I've been feeling a bit that way, though. Not dull, just... flat.” Mark kissed his ear, wondering how Nicky could possibly be dull or flat. He was like a human firework all by himself. “Closure, eh? I can do that. Now... Gemini...” He ran his finger down the page to find it. “An everyday relationship becomes easier than it has been in the past. You're starting to see how you hold very similar philosophies to a colleague or friend, but just have different ways of expressing them. Exceptional stars make this the start of a landmark period when you must broaden your horizons or miss out on luck.”

“Creepy.” Mark kissed his ear again. It was getting to be a habit, so he changed it up, nuzzling into the back of his neck and breathing in soap and sweat and pure Nicky. Heard a soft moan. “Changed my mind.” He said, feeling Nicky push back against him. “Let's go again.”

“Broadening your horizons?”

“Something like that.” Mark said, sliding a hand downwards.

 

*

 

He was in the shower when there was a knock at the door, and heard Nicky go to answer it. He'd needed it, after falling asleep in Nicky's arms, neither of them bothered about the stickiness and the sweat, the blanket tugged up over them to keep out the cold. When he'd woken, Nicky had been on the other bed, reading the rest of the paper, all freshly washed and looking content, so he'd kissed him and then gone to have a shower, not realising until the last minute that he'd not thought to cover up.

He climbed out, towelled off, and tossed the robe back on, not sure if they had visitors or not. But when he went to open the door, Nicky blocked his way.

“Stay there for a minute.”

“Why?” Mark tried to look around him. “Why are the lights off?”

“Stay there.” Nicky nudged him lightly back. “I'll come get you in a minute.”

“Um...” Mark was about to protest when the door closed in his face. He sat down on the toilet lid, feeling confused but intrigued, listening to Nicky move around in the other room. True to his word, Nicky returned a minute later, opening the door.

“Right, come out.”

“Are you sure? I can stay here all night?”

“Come the fuck out, dickhead.” Nicky retorted, reaching out a hand. Mark took it, laughing when he was tugged out into the other room.

“Nicky...” He looked around, confused. The furniture from the balcony had been tugged inside, and there were two room service trays on the table, a few candles lit on the TV cabinet. “What's this?”

“I said I'd take you out for a nice meal.” Nicky shrugged. “Thought I'd make good.”

“Wow... um...” Mark laughed, looking at the haphazard attempt. It had been rushed, obviously, but it was really sweet. Nicky reached into the minibar and passed him a beer. “Thanks.”

“Thanks back.” Their bottles clinked. “It's been a nice few days.”

“I can't wait to get out of this fucking hotel room.” Mark admitted. Nicky laughed.

“Me either. God, I just want to walk around outside.” Nicky groaned, taking a swig of his beer. “Seriously, if I have to look at that shit fucking sailboat painting one more time...”

“I know.” Mark glanced up at the picture above the bed. “And I hate the pressure in the shower.”

“Too soft! I know!” Nicky exclaimed. “What the fuck, right?” He took Mark's hand again, tugging him over. “Sit down. I got us steaks and there's a couple of pieces of red velvet cake and ice-cream in the fridge for afters.”

“All the stops?” Mark picked up his fork.

“Always.” Nicky winked. “And after dinner, I'm going to cover your bits with cake and lick it off.”

Mark gulped, looked up. Cheeky eyes smirked at him.

“Really?”

“You bet.” Nicky stabbed a piece of potato onto his fork, looked back up. “Cosmo suggested it. What do you think?” Mark swallowed, feeling a foot begin to stroke his under the table.

“I think that'd be fine.”

 


	5. Day Five

 “Nicky... oh...” He was laid on his side, Nicky behind him, and there was a cock between his thighs, grinding slowly while a hand tugged at him. He felt thoroughly vulnerable and totally turned on, listening to Nicky gasp in his ear, the soft, encouraging murmurs. A tongue licked up his throat, Nicky's breath quickening.

“Yes... Marky...” He hissed, hips moving faster, balls slapping his arse. He reached back, getting his hand on a bony hip and pulling in harder, whimpering when he felt Nicky twitch, felt a hand grab his arse, spread his cheeks a little, Nicky's cock settling into the valley, head bumping his balls as it forced through, leaving sticky trails on the inside of his thighs, just poking out when Nicky drove forward, a fist in his hair. “You're so fucking tight baby. So fucking sexy.” Was gasped in his ear, and he cried out, feeling Nicky's hand pull his climax closer.

“Nix...” His head went back on a shoulder, lips claimed by a bruising, awkward kiss, and he cried out again, feeling that hand tighten, feeling Nicky throb against him. “Feels so fucking good...”  
  
“You do. God, I never want to stop fucking you.” Nicky growled against his mouth. “Make me come. Gorgeous boy. Gonna come all over that sexy, tight fucking arse.”

“Ah...” His eyes rolled back, Nicky's words startlingly obscene in his ear, not at all what he'd expected when they'd woken up snuggled in bed that morning, a low heaviness in his stomach at the anticipation of leaving. Then Nicky had licked up his throat, kissed him hard, and closed a hand around his erection. “Keep.... keep talking I'm...”

“You like that?” Nicky murmured, hand beginning to move faster. “You like when I say shit like that to you?”

“Yesss...”

“Makes you feel sexy doesn't it? Makes you hot? When I tell you I want you?”

“Please... yes...”

“When I say I want to come all over you, feel you so tight... so fucking filthy, baby... you want it... you want me fucking you...” Teeth bit into the back of Mark's neck, marking him. “Feel you on my cock...” He shifted slightly, yanked Mark in harder, grinding against him. “You feeling it, love? You feeling how hard I am for you?”

“Nix...” He knocked Nicky's hand out of the way, began to stroke himself harder, feeling release start in his toes, in the touch of Nicky's fingers, the scrape of teeth on his neck. Too much. Needed to end this before he fell apart. A blast of hot air coated his ear.

“Look at you, touching yourself.” Nicky murmured. “Show me what you like. Show me what you do to yourself. Let me watch you come.” He growled. Mark whimpered, head rolling desperately against a slender shoulder. A hand palmed down his chest, pressing to his racing heart. “Come for me. Let me watch you.”

His head went back hard, felt Nicky crush his thighs together with one hand, grind between them hard, and then he was gone, crying out in total agony, total relief, while Nicky spilled up the insides of his legs, up the crack of his arse, warm and slick and panting in his ear, making low, growling gasps while Mark brought himself off, brought both of them off. Nicky's hand back around his cock and slicking him with his own cum, pulling him through it.

When he opened his eyes again he was trembling helplessly on the bed, Nicky's hands stroking him down. “Fuck...” Mark managed, heard a low giggle while Nicky climbed over and pulled him in, dragging his face into a slick, heaving chest. “Oh fuck.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” He sucked in a breath, trying to slow the tremors still skating up and down, his muscles too tense and too loose at the same time. “I don't think I've ever come that hard in my life.”

“I'll take that as a compliment.” Nicky smirked. “I think we've found what makes you feel sexy, huh?”

“Good start.” He leaned in, kissed Nicky's nose and had his lips caught for a moment. Broke away, his chest complaining as the exertion caught up on him, his pulse thrumming too hard in his throat. “Fucking hell.” He flopped backwards on the bed, arms and legs spread out. Totally naked and not caring. Nicky climbed on top to straddle him, fingers tracing through the spilled fluid on his stomach. There was more underneath him, soaking into the sheets.

“Lads!”

They both jumped at the knock on the door.

“Are you awake yet? We're going in half an hour!”

“Shit.” Nicky whispered, then raised his voice. “We're up, Anto! Be out soon!” He looked down at Mark. “Quick. Showers. Tidy. Go.” He leapt off, dashing for the bathroom, water starting to splatter tiles by the time Mark was up and looking at the mess they'd managed to accumulate. They'd gotten rid of the plates after dinner. Well, after dessert, where Nicky had stayed true to his word and scattered cake crumbs over Mark's cock before very slowly lapping them off, targeting each one with a pointed tongue that was cold with ice-cream. Then Nicky had gathered up the plates and cups, setting them outside the door while Mark had tried to get his breath back and Nicky had asked how he'd enjoyed his first ever blow job.

Very much, had been the answer, but not as much as returning the favour, feeling fingers card deliriously through his hair and tasting Nicky blooming on his tongue, hoping this was okay and that he wasn't seeming as painfully inexperienced as he felt. Then Nicky had shouted out suddenly, flooded his mouth, and he'd swallowed without thinking about it, climbed back up and kissed Nicky hard, feeling wanted and happy.

He pushed Nicky aside and stepped under the shower, got a squawk of affectionate indignance. Tugged him in until they were both beneath the hot stream of water, the lack of pressure barely important when Nicky kissed him, squeezed his arse, and climbed out, dashing away and coming back in jeans, holding out a towel for Mark to climb into.

They dressed quickly, tossing everything into their suitcases as fast as they could. His jeans ended up in Nicky's case, and there were three odd socks that didn't belong to him mixed up in a t-shirt, but it didn't really matter, not when Nicky tossed him a t-shirt and told him Mark always looked gorgeous in it, so he'd pulled it on and gotten a kiss, a long lingering one that had lasted until Anto knocked on the door again.

“Time to go, lads! Ready?”

“Are we?” Nicky whispered. Mark nodded.

“I think we are.” He murmured back, catching Nicky's lips again. “Try it and see how it goes for a bit?”

“And if it doesn't work out...”

“And if it does...” Mark felt himself blush, felt the redness get wiped away by a hand cupping his cheek.

“If it does, then that would be absolutely grand.” Nicky smiled. “But don't ever put a scrunchy on my cock.”

“Deal.” Mark laughed.

Then he put his hand on the doorknob and pushed it open, letting Nicky through.

**Author's Note:**

> The terrifying thing is that every bit of 'advice' included is from a real Cosmo article. Yep, even the ear-pulling.
> 
> I still don't know why I wrote this. Bourbon's a hell of a drink, especially when it's maple syrup flavoured.


End file.
